Calathi
by Megolas
Summary: Twenty-NINE! ---What shall become of our beloved Calathi? The end is near.... Rating for suggestive events... ;)... To all of you Legolas-lovers out there, this is another Legolas romance...blah blah blah, etc...you know what it's about...
1. Sorrow

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories (though none have been used...yet), but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
Please review this! It is my first story, though it is not totally original, I got some ideas from other stories I have read. More of my own ideas will appear later on in this, and I am posting it as I write. I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Chapter One  
  
The elven maiden rolled over in her bed, trying to fall asleep unsuccessfully. She was still angry and frustrated by what her father had said earlier. He had forbidden her from training with the other male elves anymore. She shuddered, thinking of the constricting gowns she would soon be forced to wear while learning to become a lady. *Why couldn't he just understand?*  
  
She flipped her pillow, still wet from her previous tears, which had finally stopped falling, over and desperately tried to clear her mind so she could get some sleep. She would need plenty of energy to devise a plan to make her father change is mind. She could not become a lady of the court, at all costs.  
  
* * * *  
  
Remelith looked at her daughter, who was leaning against a tree in the garden, and knew that something was wrong. Calathi rarely sat idly or alone, but today she was doing both. Her lustrous dark brown hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and her eyes were red and puffy, as though she had been crying. "Daughter, what is troubling you?" she asked softly. "You are not yourself today."  
  
"That is because father has told me not to be," Calathi answered, her eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears, though she tried valiantly to keep them from falling. "Oh mother, I do not want to be a lady!" she finally sobbed, the tears streaming down her face.  
  
"There, there, child." Remelith knelt beside her weeping daughter and put comforting arms around her. "Your father only wants what is best for you."  
  
"But mother, he does not understand. I would much rather be a member of the royal guard than find a husband and settle down as a lady." Calathi had temporarily stopped crying to gaze at her mother with pleading eyes. Remelith's heart broke at the sight of her daughter's distress. "Besides," she sniffled, "you know I am as good as any of the other elves in Ilinar. I cannot just stand by and watch my homeland be ravaged by rogues and orcs!"  
  
"Yes, I surely know that." Tears fell once more from Calathi. "Please, daughter, stop your crying, you'll wear yourself out to nothing," Remelith said as she gently drew her daughter to her feet. "Come, let us go for a walk. It will help to clear your mind. I shall try to talk to your father."  
  
A hint of a smile showed on Calathi's lips. * Oh, please let her be able to convince him,* she thought. Then the two strode onto a path leading through the forest and disappeared. 


	2. Discussion

Chapter Two  
  
Remelith's husband was in his study, writing. *May the Valar give me strength,* she thought. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, before she stepped inside. "Demeron, may I speak with you please?"  
  
He didn't even look up. "Certainly, as soon as I finish writing this letter to Thranduil."  
  
"And what, exactly, are you writing to him about?" she asked. She knew that her husband and Thranduil had been close friends when he was a member of the royal guard, but she had a feeling that the letter concerned more than just matters of their friendship.  
  
"I am requesting that a room be prepared for Calathi in the palace. I do not wish for her arrival to be a surprise, and I would like to know that she was well cared for," he answered.  
  
Remelith was silent for a moment, pushing away her frustration so that it wouldn't affect her thinking. "Wouldn't you also like to know that she was happy?" she asked.  
  
At this, Demeron looked up, a surprised look in his blue-gray eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded angrily.  
  
"You know, husband, that she would rather be a warrior in the royal guard than princess of all of Mirkwood. Yet you still force her to be what she is least?"  
  
"She is of noble blood, and as such it is her duty to become a lady of the court, whether or not she wants to!" he retorted. "She would never be accepted otherwise. Women are not meant to be warriors!"  
  
"She is as strong and skilled as any other elf in Ilinar, and still you continue to say that she is not worthy of such a position! Do you love her? Or are you only forcing her to do this in order to advance your standings at court?" Remelith inquired.  
  
Demeron stood up. "How dare you say that I do this for my own good? I want her to be safe from the horrors of war. Of course I love her, she is the greatest gift I have ever received!"  
  
"Then I beseech you husband, do not push her to become what she does not want to be." Remelith turned and indignantly strode out of the room, leaving her husband staring after her. *Oh, for the sake of Calathi, let him understand, * she thought. With a sigh, she walked down the hall in the direction of her bedroom and prepared to sleep. 


	3. Friendly Farewell

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories (though none have been used...yet), but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
Please review this! It is my first story, though it is not totally original, I got some ideas from other stories I have read. More of my own ideas will appear later on in this, and I am posting it as I write. I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Chapter Three  
  
"I sure am going to miss you Calathi," said Meron, a tall, well-muscled elf. He was Calathi's best friend, and they had trained together before her father forbid it. Remelith had been unable to change her husband's mind, despite her efforts. He would not hear of her becoming a warrior, rather than a lady.  
  
They were at their secret hideout. It was a secluded area of the pure stream that ran over her father's property, and it was unknown to others. Here the two elves had shared many conversations, some happy and some sad. When Meron heard she was not allowed to train any longer and was leaving on the morning after the next full moon, he knew that she would be there the day before. They always thought alike.  
  
Calathi's eyes burned with the urge to cry, but her eyes were dry. "I'm going to miss you too," she returned. She stiffened suddenly, realizing that she may never see him again. She would go to the palace and meet more noble elves. Then she would marry one and move away to a distant part of Mirkwood. Meron would probably meet another elf as well and settle down, and they might not ever meet after that.  
  
She remembered how much of a big brother he had been; he taught her how to create a slingshot with sticks, where the best hiding spots were, and when the best season was to hunt for certain types of game. In return, she had taught him how to quickly mend his clothes so that his parents wouldn't find out he was in a fight, and how best to cook fish and other foods while camping in the woods, things she had learned from her mother. Meron sensed her distress and gently squeezed her hand.  
  
Calathi returned to reality and smiled. No, she thought. Of course we'll see each other again. We'll always be close. They had always thought of each other as brother and sister; Meron always knew how to make her feel better. They couldn't be separated by anything less than death, and even then, they would meet again someday.  
  
"Being a lady might not be so bad," Meron suggested. "Besides, how could you be unhappy with all the elves that are going to be fawning over you and competing for your attention?" He grinned. "If any of them are too persistent though, tell me and I'll set them straight."  
  
"I will be sure to do that," Calathi said, giving Meron a strong hug. "Promise you won't forget me?"  
  
"Of course I won't, how could I? You're the only girl I've ever met that could scare another elf, " he said, hugging her back. It was true; she had once frightened another elf for teasing a puppy, for she loved all animals.  
  
"Goodbye then."  
  
"Goodbye Calathi. We shall see each other again soon." Meron waved as she left their hideout, feeling better than she had been when she first arrived. *She's beautiful,* he thought. She was slender and tall, only a bit shorter than himself. Her eyes were framed by long, dark lashes, and her dreamy eyes were a pretty blue. He wished it were different, for his life would not be the same without her.  
  
  
  
"Valar grant it," she whispered, a single tear trickling down her cheek. 


	4. Leaving Home

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories (though none have been used...yet), but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
***Legolas is coming soon! (  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Calathi gazed at herself in the mirror and gasped. She was beautiful. Sure, she had worn dresses before, when the time called for it, but they were simple, dull colors, and they had only extended to her ankles, or perhaps the floor. Now, however, she was wearing a spectacular, flowing silk gown, made a deep blue-green fabric that emphasized her pretty eyes. It even had a train that extended beyond her feet, though she would have to be sure to hold it up during her journey to keep it free of dirt.  
  
Nora, Calathi's servant that was to accompany her on the trip, draped a heavy cloak over her shoulders. "There you are, my lady."  
  
Calathi turned to her. "Please, Nora, call me Calathi. For as long as you remain with me, you will be my friend before my servant. I only wish that you could consider me your friend as well."  
  
"Thank you, my lady…err…Calathi. That would be wonderful." Nora's hazel eyes were full of respect and admiration she smiled at her newly found friend. "Shall we proceed outside then?"  
  
"Yes, I'll have to do it sooner or later," Calathi said dryly. The two elves walked outside.  
  
* * * *  
  
A squadron of the royal guard had been summoned to escort Calathi and Nora to the palace, and they stood next to their horses. One of them stepped forward when he saw Calathi, and bowed deeply. "My lady, I am Telmonarisma, leader of this squadron, but you, of course, may call me Telmon." He approached her, kissing her hand gently. "It is an honor to escort one whose beauty outshines even the sun."  
  
Calathi curtsied, something she had only recently learned from Nora. She was surprised to see that she did not falter, and she was very glad of it. "Thank you, my lord, you are too kind." She smiled politely, and Telmon fell back into his position ahead of the other warriors in the squadron.  
  
Calathi turned to Remelith and was shocked to see that she was weeping. "Goodbye." They hugged each other, Calathi's tears joining those of her mother. "I shall miss you."  
  
"I will miss you too," Remelith agreed. "You shall see, daughter. Being a lady is not so bad. You will grow to enjoy your life, trust me."  
  
Calathi could only nod as she composed herself, wiping her face with her hands. Then she turned to her father.  
  
Demeron looked at his beloved daughter and saw the pain in her eyes. His heart turned to ice, and he realized how much he had hurt her by separating her from what she loved most. As she hugged him, he whispered, "Lovely one, forgive me. I wish it could be different, but it is not meant to be." He thought of changing his mind, but a picture of Calathi lying on a battlefield, beaten and broken, and knew that he could not bear to think of her fighting as a warrior. This really was best.  
  
Calathi pulled away and, with help from Telmon, mounted her sleek mare, which was very hard to do in a gown. She was forced to sit sidesaddle, and she wished that she could at least carry a sword, for she knew that the dangers of the forest of Mirkwood were great. Her things loaded onto a separate horse, and Nora at her side on her own black steed, she waved goodbye, and the company trotted off into the woods. 


	5. Orcs in the Forest

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories (though none have been used...yet), but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
*This is a longer chapter, and more interesting than the previous ones, I am sure. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Five  
  
They traveled through the Forest of Mirkwood at a fairly light pace. The guards were unsure of the ladies' endurance, so they stopped to rest often. Though Calathi did not need it when they first began riding, Nora appeared as though she did, so Calathi said nothing to the other elves.  
  
She was forced to ride side-saddle because of her gown, and she was careful getting on and off her horse so she would not tear it. It was frustrating for her to go through these painstaking precautions all day long. *Can't I at least wear normal clothes while I am traveling,* she thought. But no, her mother had told her that this is the way it must be, so she dealt with it as best she could.  
  
The company continued a bit even after darkness had settled, and then they made camp.  
  
Despite their many breaks throughout the journey thus far, Calathi was exhausted. She had never ridden so far in one day, so she simply loosened her gown, let down her hair, and fell onto a blanket. Nora, though even more tired than her companion, went about preparing Calathi's things for the next day.  
  
"Nora," Calathi yawned, "go to bed. It has been a long day."  
  
"My lady-"  
  
"Calathi," her mistress interrupted.  
  
"Calathi, I have not yet finished this evening's chores. I am still your servant and my duty today will not be fulfilled until I am finished with these tasks."  
  
"Nora, I order you to drop what you are doing and get some rest," Calathi said sternly. "Besides, what good will you be as anything, a servant or friend, if you become sick?" She smiled. "I am officially relieving you of your duty for the day. Now go to bed."  
  
"Nora sighed and gratefully got into her own bedroll. "Thank you," she whispered.  
  
"You are welcome," answered Calathi, but her friend was already fast asleep. She chuckled and passed into her own dreamless sleep.  
  
The next morning dawned brisk and foggy. Nora woke Calathi and helped her change into a new gown after bathing. She now donned a pale green one, complete with lace around the collar and low hem. She let out her breath in relief, for this dress had no train to worry about stepping on. Then Calathi stepped outside her tent for breakfast, which the other elves had prepared.  
  
They all stood and bowed when they saw her, and she curtsied in return. *Is this what my life will be,* she thought. *Curtsying when bowed too, riding sidesaddle, and attending boring banquets with stuffy nobles?* She sighed and ate her breakfast. Then they packed up camp and were off once again.  
  
The day continued as the previous one did, with many breaks throughout the day. They only had that one, and two more, until they would finally reach the palace. Calathi became anxious, knowing that she would then be presented at court and she would meet King Thranduil and the Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
Her horse seemed to sense her anxiousness and became fidgety. *Wait,* she thought. *It can't be just me, everyone else's horses are also prancing nervously, and Telmon couldn't possibly be worried about anything.*  
  
She pulled her quaking horse to a stop as she caught a foul stench in the air. It was of rotting flesh and sweat mixed with dirt-orcs.  
  
The others had also stopped as they smelled it. "Orcs!" Telmon shouted. The royal guard instantly formed a line between Calathi and Nora and the scent of the orcs as they drew their swords. "Remain behind us ladies," he ordered sternly.  
  
Calathi would have protested, but she knew that she would only be in the way. How could she possibly help them in her gown, and without a weapon?  
  
Suddenly the orcs swarmed into view, charging madly and yelling. Immediately the arrows began to fly from the elfin bows, shooting down orc after orc.  
  
The charging enemy merged into the Mirkwood warriors with a loud clang of metal-on-metal. The elves struck them down one by one, slaughtering them with their swift swords and daggers.  
  
Calathi and Nora only looked on in terror, Calathi trying to think of a plan, should an orc break through the protective line.  
  
Suddenly a sharp pain erupted on the back of her head, and her vision clouded. As she sunk to the ground, trying to stead herself, rough hands yanked her back to her feet. She felt cold steel press to her neck as she looked confusedly at her companions.  
  
They stared at her, dead orcs lying slain at their feet. She heard a gruff voice behind her say, "Drop your weapons, or your lady dies."  
  
Great anger welled inside her. An orc was holding her hostage. Her, a hostage! The blade was no longer at her neck, sensing that their was no need as she could hardly stand.  
  
Focusing her thoughts so that she stopped seeing only blurred images, she snapped out her arm as fast as lightning and knocked the weapon from her captor's loose fingers, sending it flying away through the air.  
  
She spun quickly away from the surprised orc. Yanking her dress above her knees, she pulled her leg in and put all of her remaining strength into a kick. She nailed the orc square in the face and sent him sailing backward, landing several paces away where he lay, unmoving.  
  
Calathi found several arrows instantly embedded in each of the half-dozen or so orcs that had stood behind her captor. Turning, she saw her elf companions rushing toward her as her vision went white and her knees buckled. She collapsed into darkness.  
  
****You get to meet Legolas in the next chapter…if there is one…*laughs evilly* …it is sooo fun to leave you hanging like this! Though I am sure you can guess what happens. :)  
  
~Megolas~ 


	6. The Palace of Mirkwood

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories (though none have been used...yet), but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
*Thanks for your reviews; to 000 (if you ever read this again), I write about Lord of the Rings because writing is fun, and it takes my mind off of things. Lord of the Rings is an awesome story, and so much can branch off of it, but why do you read fanfiction about it if you want to read something "real?" Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinions…  
  
Anyway, to Winterfox, I appreciate your review as well, though I have a few things to say to it. Yes, you were definitely right about the whole wearing-a-dress-while-traveling thing, I don't know what I was thinking…I guess I just wanted something for her to complain about while on her journey…anyway, I am in the process of rewriting all of chapter four, and I hope to have that up soon. Second of all, I didn't say anything about arranged marriages, I don't know where that came from, though I should probably study elfin customs a bit more anyway. I have been thinking about the details thing, and I'm working on that too. If you care to check, I did change the she-elf statement, I didn't know that anyone had a problem with that. Sorry! This is my first fanfiction, as I have said, and I'm trying to work out the kinks in my writing. Of course, a major drawback is that it is not original, though I'm thinking of maybe altering the ending I have planned to make it more so. I am probably going to write another story after this, one that is *completely* original, so if you care to wait that long, I'd appreciate your reviews for the next one too. Thanks again!  
  
And now, sorry to dawdle, back to the story…  
  
  
  
Chapter Six  
  
"Come back to us Calathi," a voice whispered. "Open your eyes."  
  
Calathi did not want to open her eyes. The scene that she had closed them to horrified her, and she feared that that is what she would see when she did open them. "No," she whimpered.  
  
"Calathi, it is all right. You are safe now. Open your eyes," the strange voice called again.  
  
The voice was soothing and gentle, and she slowly did as she was told. She looked up into pure blue eyes. "Who are you?" she asked. The stranger helped her sit up, and she noticed that she was in a bright room filled with the scent of flowers. Calathi grimaced as the pain on the back of her head increased. "Where am I?" she moaned, face tight with pain.  
  
"I am King Thranduil, child. You are in the palace of Mirkwood, and out of harm's way." Calathi gasped and struggled to stand so that she could greet the king properly, but he pushed her back down.  
  
"Rest now," he continued. "There will be plenty of time for proper introductions later."  
  
"Yes, your highness," Calathi was finally able to say, after a brief silence. He handed her a steaming cup.  
  
"Drink this," he ordered. She did, and instantly felt the pain ease. Her eyelids grew heavy.  
  
"How-"  
  
"No more talk," he whispered, putting his finger to his lips. "You can ask your questions later. Sleep now." Calathi could only nod before falling fast asleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
When Calathi next awoke, she was alone in her room, and she barely noticed the ache of her head. She saw that her things were unpacked, and a fresh gown was draped over an ornately carved chair. The curtains across her balcony billowed in the light breeze.  
  
A basin had been set on her bedside table for her to wash with, so she stood and did so. Then she stepped into her rose gown, brushed her hair, and walked onto the balcony to look at her new surroundings.  
  
Calathi could see across the forest of Mirkwood, with its dark trees and dangerous shadows. *Oh no, * she realized. *Telmon must have brought me the entire two-day journey here! * She would have to thank him later, for traveling through the woods was no light task, especially if one was busy carrying someone else.  
  
To her left, she saw more of the palace of Mirkwood, elegant against the ominous forest. "You're awake!" someone said, making her jump. She whirled.  
  
"Nora!" The two female elves embraced.  
  
"Are you alright?" Calathi's friend asked, concern showing in her delicate face. She looked worn out, and her eyes, slightly dull, were edged with creases.  
  
"I feel better." Nora let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Oh, I was so worried Calathi! When you collapsed there, after being threatened by the orc, and your blood everywhere, I thought…I thought…" she trailed off, tears coming to her eyes, soon falling.  
  
Calathi comforted her and said soothingly, "I am all right now. Please, stop worrying."  
  
"I couldn't sleep, with you in that condition. I should have done something; I should have stopped that orc."  
  
"You couldn't have, Nora. This wasn't your fault."  
  
"I could never have done what you did," Nora sobbed. "You killed that horrible creature, with no weapons, while he held you prisoner." Her sobs eased, and she seemed to calm herself, blushing pink with embarrassment. "Well, you are well now, and I am glad." She turned to leave.  
  
"Nora, wait. Would you like to go for a walk?" Nora smiled gratefully, linking arms with her friend.  
  
"I would love that. Are you sure you are well enough?"  
  
"Perfectly sure. Now let's be off, before night comes." The two strolled arm-in-arm toward the gardens.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Prince Legolas of Mirkwood sat grandly on his throne in the banquet hall. He was fair-skinned, with long, glossy blond hair and perfect, royal blue eyes. He wore a tunic of velvety, dark green, and he was holding a goblet of pure gold, inlaid with jewels. He toyed with it, his sensitive, nimble fingers gliding over the engravings, and he obviously looked bored.  
  
A feast had been prepared, for a new lady was to be presented. The elf sighed, wondering if this one would be as dull as the last one. Most elfin ladies, he had found, were like that: spoiled, though gracious, and caring only for his crown. He knew, however, that that could not be helped.  
  
Of course, he had heard the story of her trip to the palace. The Prince found it hard to believe that a mere lady from an isolated area of Mirkwood could escape from an outraged orc. It was just a rumor, and rumors were seldom true. He would have to wait and ask her himself.  
  
The servants milled around, offering appetizers to the other nobles. Legolas waved them on when they reached him; he was sick of the rich, extravagant meals, and wished only for simple food. He was surrounded by various ladies, which were fawning over him and talking aimlessly about insignificant details of their lives.  
  
Suddenly King Thranduil stood, and the hall hushed. "It is time to begin," he said. "I present to this court Lady Calathi of Ilinar."  
  
Calathi entered the room, and suddenly everyone was completely silent. She was dressed in an exquisite silk gown of deep blue, emphasizing her own eyes. It flowed behind her, like water, as she stepped toward the king.  
  
The lady's dark hair cascaded down her back in lavish curls, almost to her waist. Her figure seemed to glow, her beauty radiating in every direction. All eyes followed her as she approached Thranduil and curtsied gracefully. "Your Highness," she said, her head bowed in respect.  
  
"My Lady Calathi, welcome to my palace," he said, nodding to her, as she straightened.  
  
Legolas then stood and bowed. "My Lady Calathi, thank you for bestowing the wonderful gift of your presence on this court. I am at your service," he said politely.  
  
Calathi gazed at him a moment, surprised at his own words. The Prince of Mirkwood, at her service? She could hardly believe it, but she realized that he was probably only saying this because it was necessary. "I am honored, my Lord," she finally managed to say.  
  
"Let the feast begin," Thranduil said to the quiet crowd. The room erupted in conversation once again as platters were brought to each table. 


	7. Talk with Legolas

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories (though none have been used...yet), but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
****Sorry this took so long guys! I've been really busy lately, but thanks for the reviews! I'm probably going to be posting more sporadically now though, because I'm having surgery next week and won't be able to write for at least a week. After that, I'll try to have my sister post the chapters as I write, because my parents probably won't let me on the computer. Sorry, sorry sorry!  
  
* * * * *  
  
Calathi was seated next to Legolas at the long banquet table, now laden with every kind of elvish food they could think of. "How was your trip to the palace?" he asked her, longing to ask straight away about her experience with the orcs. However, good manners prevented this, and he settled for his original question.  
  
"It was well enough," she answered, not sure if it would be polite to discuss her orcish encounter with the prince. "There was a slight…er…problem we had," she continued, unsure of what exactly to say.  
  
"Go on," the prince said. Calathi glanced at him and saw that he was watching her with genuine interest. She relaxed and told the rest of her story.  
  
"Well, the horses suddenly got nervous, and then we smelled orcs. Telmon and his guards protected us, Nora and I, that is."  
  
"Nora?" he inquired.  
  
"Nora is my friend. She came with me from Ilinar to be sure I was taken care of."  
  
"You need not worry about that, my lady. I assure you, your needs will be tended to in this palace."  
  
"I never doubted that, your highness." Calathi smiled at him. "Anyway, the orcs could not compare to the skills of our warriors, and they fell rapidly. However, a small group of them had sneaked around behind us, and one of them hit me in the head. He held a knife to my throat and ordered our warriors to drop their weapons.  
  
"By that time, I could hardly tell up from down, but when I heard the foul creature demand my friends' lives as a ransom for me, I pulled myself together enough to, uh, escape," Calathi finished lamely.  
  
Legolas asked her, "How, exactly, did you 'escape?'"  
  
"I knocked the knife from his hand and spun away, then kicked him." Her eyes filled with tears. "I…I killed him. And then I fainted, like a weak…a weak elf." Calathi took a deep breath. *I cannot cry in front of the prince, * she thought. *He would never respect me if I did. *  
  
He took her hand in his. "Such bravery I would not have thought possible in an elven maiden, but I have been shown otherwise by your deeds and the testimony of others. You are truly welcome in my court, Lady Calathi. I hope you can make Mirkwood your home, for I shall always enjoy your company."  
  
Calathi's cheeks flushed, for she had never received such compliments from anyone, let alone royalty. "I am honored, your highness."  
  
"Please, my lady, call me Legolas."  
  
"And you, Legolas, may call me Calathi." The two elves gazed at each other. As Calathi looked at the prince, she felt her heart quicken within her breast. Confusion flooded her mind, even as giddiness did. Was she falling in love?  
  
The elves returned to their dinner and the banquet came to a finish. As Calathi stood to leave, Legolas gently took her arm. "May I escort you to your chambers?"  
  
"That would be lovely, Legolas," she answered. Then she gently placed her slender arm on his, and together thy walked through the brightly lit marble halls.  
  
The pair continued in silence, though Calathi could feel his eyes on her. She looked at him, and he continued to gaze intently at her fair face. Suddenly, he stooped and drew her hand toward him, kissing it gently. "I have never met an elf such as you," he told her softly.  
  
"Nor have I met an elf like you," she replied, forcing a tone of confidence into her own voice, though she hardly felt it. Her blood was pulsing anxiously through her veins. She chanced a look behind her and saw that they had actually stopped in front of her room.  
  
The prince continued to hold her hand, all the while searching her eyes as though looking for something. She pulled away quickly, for what reason she knew not. "I-I should go," she stammered.  
  
He stepped away from her. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean…I hadn't realized…" He turned to go, but she grabbed his hand again to stop him.  
  
"Legolas, it is I who is sorry. It's just…I know that we could never court each other. Your father would not allow it, for I am only a minor noble from the small realm of Ilinar; I am neither royalty nor am I in high enough standing even to consider it. But I cannot stop my heart from feeling what it will, and I do not wish for it to be broken when you find another-more suitable-maiden." With that, she turned and fled into her chambers as Legolas stared after her in shocked silence.  
  
Once inside, she stood with her back against the door until she heard Legolas walk away softly. Then she sank to the ground and put her head on her silk-covered knees. *Why did I do that, * she asked herself angrily. *Now he will never pursue me. To him I'm just a meek, average elf, one who thinks too highly of herself. Who am I to him? * Then she wept bitterly, all the while thinking of how childish she was being. She finally nodded off to sleep late into the night. 


	8. Accident

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories, but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
***Now I know who you are, Raven!!! STOP THIS NOW, or I will be forced to use my nails against you! There is no need to review every single chapter or argue with the other reviewers. You can tell me what you think yourself!!!!  
  
**To the other reviewers, I apologize. Please, continue sending me your reviews! They mean more to me than from people I know, because you don't know me and therefore won't really judge me! And even if you do, I don't really care, that's your decision.  
  
***To Winterfox specifically, I'm sorry if I develop this romance too quickly, I don't have much time and I may be forced to end it prematurely. I will, however, when I am finished this story, write another, VERY different, one, and I will take my time on it.  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Calathi awoke when she heard a knock at her door. Startled, she jumped to her feet too quickly. Her head swam and her knees collapsed, stiff and weak from spending the entire night in the same sitting position upon the hard stone floor. Her feet were tangled in her wrinkled gown, and she toppled to the floor where she landed with a loud crack.  
  
The guard who had knocked opened the door at the sound and found Calathi lying on the floor, cradling her left arm, which was now bent at an irregular angle. Tears streamed down her already streaked face, and she shook with the effort of holding her cries in.  
  
"My Lady!" he exclaimed. "How did this happen?" He bent and gently lifted her, making sure he did not touch the obviously broken arm. Treating her as he would a young child, he rushed down the hallway.  
  
Calathi's arm throbbed with a pain so intense that she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness, her body's attempt to deal with her extreme anguish. Vaguely, she saw a figure hovering over her, distantly chanting incomprehensible words.  
  
Someone was pressing a cool cloth to her forehead – was wiping away the warm blood that she had not noticed was there before. As the healing chants eased her pain, she saw the same sapphire eyes, now clouded with worry, looking into her own. "Legolas," she whispered, "Legolas, I'm sorry."  
  
"No, Calathi, do not be. It is I who was mistaken. But what you said was not true. My father's opinion means very little to me in matters such as this." Another voice murmured something, and the prince took her hand in his. "Look at me," he said. "Do not take your eyes from me."  
  
She felt someone apply slight pressure to her arm and realized what was coming next. She let loose an agonizing scream as Thranduil set her arm. Then she broke out in a cold sweat. Legolas squeezed her hand. "Calathi – Calathi, look at me."  
  
She couldn't quite tell whom it was that was speaking to her. She could feel a far away ache, but she did not seem to care. This feeling was new to her – carefree, almost as though she were floating. The familiar voice broke through a barrier in her mind.  
  
"Lirimaer lovely one, stay. Look at me. Do not leave." Who was that? Oh well, no matter. She could stay in this space forever, feeling no pain, no sorrow. Suddenly, lips brushed hers, and she was brought back to reality.  
  
"Legolas," she whispered. Her arm no longer throbbed, and she noticed that it was now wrapped tightly.  
  
"Calathi, I am here. I'm right here." He applied another cloth to her forehead, and she winced as she felt the gash there sting. After she lay there for a bit, he helped her to sit up, and she noticed that people had gathered around when they heard the commotion. Nora ran to her friend.  
  
"Oh Calathi, how…what…" she gave up on her inquiry and embraced her friend. "Don't ever do that again!" she scolded. "You scared me!"  
  
"I'll try not to," she said, giggling. Her head began to pound, and she became dizzy again.  
  
"Take her back to her room, Legolas," said King Thranduil. "She needs rest to heal." At that moment, Calathi began to moan, clutching her head with one hand as though afraid it would explode. She had a handful of Legolas' tunic in the other, trying to steady herself.  
  
Legolas nodded to his father and scooped up the injured elf. They left the noise of the crowd behind as they headed to her palace room. "What happened?" she asked him, still holding her aching head.  
  
"You broke your arm. When my father set it, you went into shock."  
  
"Oh," she answered meekly.  
  
"I tried calling you back, but you were too far gone."  
  
"Then how did you save me?" Calathi asked. "I dreamed…well, I dreamed that…that someone kissed me." Her cheeks became flushed, causing her head to pound even more.  
  
"You did not dream," he said. "It is I who kissed you." At that moment, they entered Calathi's room, and Legolas laid her on the bed. "You are strong, Lirimaer. You did return, though many might not have." He bent over her and kissed her on the forehead. "Sleep well, Calathi."  
  
"Legolas? What did you mean with what you said before?"  
  
He paused and looked at her, losing himself in her beauty. He finally said, "Calathi, you have grown in my heart since the first time we spoke, for in my lifetime I have never known one so strong or brave as you. I will not allow my father to interfere with whom I choose to love."  
  
*Love, * she thought. *He speaks of love? *  
  
As if reading her thoughts, Legolas continued. "I am not yet sure what my heart is trying to tell me, but every time I see your fair face, it leaps within my breast. Now rest." Then he began to sing healing words, lulling her to sleep and soothing her pain.  
  
Her headache eased; she relaxed into the soft pillows of her bed. A feeling of peace washed over her. "Thank you, Legolas. I care a lot about you too." He smiled, then left the room. Calathi closed her eyes and, still smiling herself, instantly fell asleep. 


	9. Memories

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories, but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
*To Raven, again sighs, how could Calathi trip over her gown? Obviously, her legs were asleep or extremely cramped after sitting there for so long. That kind of thing happens to me all the time, and I'm sure you take at least a little while to get up in the morning. So picture this: you sleep sitting up, in your basement, after staying up to all hours of the night, and then a cat climbs up your back the next morning and you are rudely awakened very suddenly. I imagine that you wouldn't stay on your feet. Tata!  
  
*This is probably the most dramatic chapter I have written so far, and, well, it is a bit risky. Just the same, reviews are always welcome!  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
With dawn came a cool frost. Calathi looked out when she awoke and beheld the forest of Mirkwood, glittering with millions of tiny ice crystals. Her breath caught in her throat, and she half-choked, remembering the beauty of her own home during the fall.  
  
The serene lake beside her house would be coated with a thin layer of ice; she recalled many mornings spent watching the sunrise reflect off its surface. This was the first feeling of homesickness she had endured since her arrival at the palace. Suddenly she longed to see her mother and father, and Meron.  
  
Meron. Did he ever miss her as she missed him now? His easygoing nature, friendly smile, how his hazel eyes always watched her when she spoke, as though what she was saying was the most important thing in the world at that moment. Memory suddenly flooded her mind like a raging wave, and she sank to the ground.  
  
* * * * *  
  
400 years earlier  
  
Calathi sat in the shade of a great oak tree, appreciating the solitude of the forest. She was reading a letter written to her by her Aunt Sominara, who was describing the new foal that had just been born, when she heard footsteps approaching.  
  
Out of the brush came an elf named Harem, one of the most skilled warriors in Ilinar, as her father had told her. She could see now why everyone believed that; he was tall, with black hair cropped to shoulder length. Muscles rippled in his strong arms, and his face was well defined and seemingly very perceptive. In his dexterous hands he held a bouquet of white lilies.  
  
The elf stopped in front of Calathi, who was still seated, and bowed, holding out his gift. Startled, she realized that the flowers were for her, and she took them with trembling fingers. "Dear Calathi, how are you?" he said. He then offered his hand to help her up. Once standing, he stepped away and continued, "You should not be wandering in the forest without someone to protect you." Now he looked her over, and Calathi grew uncomfortable under his gaze.  
  
"I was reading a letter," she answered shyly. "Who would bother me out here?"  
  
"A lot of people may bother you," he replied. She saw his cold, dark eyes watching her in an expression she could not comprehend, and became frightened – utterly frightened, more so than she had ever felt. Her fear ended quickly, however, when he asked, "Would you like to go for a walk?"  
  
Though she still felt a little uneasy, she consented and strode off into the woods, ignoring his outstretched arm. He dropped it eventually and simply walked beside her, a head taller than she.  
  
After a moment she began, "How do you know me? If I am correct, though I have seen you before, we have not been properly introduced."  
  
"Oh! I apologize. I am Harem. Your father talks a lot about you, and I wanted to meet the wonderful lady he speaks of."  
  
"You flatter me, my lord. Though I do not understand why we could not meet somewhere less, well, isolated." She glanced around, noting that they were miles from her home, and already they were passing farther into the forest than before, though night was swiftly approaching.  
  
Harem looked at the young elf once again. At the age of 461, she already showed grace and pride beyond her years. He was nearly a thousand years older than she, but despite this fact he still longed for her – to caress her creamy face, to stroke her soft curls…*no *, he thought. *No, it must not be this way. * "I have a great interest in you, Calathi," he stated. "Your father speaks truly indeed; you are fair and beautiful, and you walk with the elegance and grace of royalty. It would bring me great joy if you would consent to allow me to court you."  
  
The elven maiden was too stunned to speak. A renowned warrior was asking to court her? She could hardly believe it. "But, my lord, I am much too young to begin courtship. My father would never allow it."  
  
"If you are willing to try, my dear, your father does not have to know right away," he replied calmly.  
  
"What? Evade my father? I – I cannot, my lord, I am sorry." She backed away and turned toward her home. The sun was sinking below the horizon, crimson and gold reflecting off the leaves of the trees. *I shouldn't have let it get so late, * she scolded herself. "Goodbye."  
  
She felt a large hand grab her arm. "Calathi, please, do not go. Perhaps your father would agree to it, if I asked."  
  
She yanked herself away. "No; I know him well, and he would not. The very suggestion would cause him great anger. I must go." Her gaze fell upon him, and that same odd gleam was in his eyes. Suddenly, he could contain himself no longer and pulled her toward him, pressing his lips to hers with such passion that Calathi could hardly breath.  
  
The young elf broke away, gasping. "How DARE you treat me with such disrespect? Never, ever, kiss me again without asking for permission first!"  
  
"Calathi, you do not know what you want. Your body wishes for this, but you are scared and confused. I understand. I'll help you." His mouth found hers once again as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.  
  
She protested – struggled with all her strength against the firm grasp of the elf. He was much stronger than her, and she could not escape. Now he was frantically unbuttoning her blouse, all the while touching her arms, her hair, her chest.  
  
How many times had she dreamt of this experience? She had always thought about the moment she'd spend with a companion, someone she loved and trusted. Only this time, it was real. The touches were unwanted; there was no love, only lust. She was up against a tree, his body pressed against hers. She screamed when he released her lips and instead began to kiss her neck and her newly revealed shoulders.  
  
"Please," she begged, "please, stop!" Harem ceased for a moment and lessened his hold on her.  
  
"Calathi, don't you see? We were meant to be together." He was trying to manipulate her – trying to get her to consent to be with him. He gently began to kiss her again, and he pulled his own shirt off. "Let me show you…"  
  
*I can't believe this is happening to me, * she thought. *No, no, no… not me! * She reached up with her free hand, for the other was held against her side in Harem's embrace. She felt desperately for something, anything, that she could use to push him off her. Her hand caught on a loose branch above her, and she yanked it off, pulling it down upon the elf's head with as much force as she could muster.  
  
He yelped in surprise, releasing her and rubbing his bruised head. She seized the opportunity and sprinted off into the woods, Harem's outraged cries following her. He chased her, trying to catch her again so he could get what he had wanted. She was breathless and trembling from head to toe. The warrior gave up on her after a little while, realizing she could outrun him for as long as she needed to. On she ran into the night, as far away as she could until she collapsed, sobbing and shivering.  
  
It was almost dawn, the edge of the sun just peeking over the edge of the forest. *He almost raped me, * she realized. She sat, huddled next to a large boulder, rocking back and forth.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A cramp in her arm brought her from her dazed state. She was rocking back and forth just as she was then, now surrounded by the pictures burned into her mind. *Thank the Valar I was able to escape, * she thought. But she knew in her heart that she was forever changed after that experience. It was the soul reason why she had decided to learn how to fight; she wanted to protect herself, for she had never before felt so helpless.  
  
It was the reason, she then realized, why she had pulled away from Legolas. Calathi had never told anyone her awful story. However, she did feel more comfortable around the Prince than any other male elf, other than Meron.  
  
Meron again. Why did she just now start to think of him? Why hadn't she before thought of any of this? The palace was mystical, of that she was certain. It brought back memories long forgotten, memories that often were unwanted.  
  
Calathi saw through the window that the sun had rose only a little in the sky. Her entire horrible experience had lasted only a short while, of which she was thankful. She feared that if Nora had entered her room and prematurely ended her recollection, she could not have contained herself and would have told her everything.  
  
Nora would surely have told someone, whether it was her father or King Thranduil. She knew the sequence from there: they would search for Harem and bring him to justice, after a testimony by Calathi. She would be forced to look upon his despicable face, and would fall apart at the sight, she was sure. The thought of Legolas seeing her in such a state made her cringe and pray that it would never happen.  
  
The elf stood and stretched her tight muscles before washing her face and combing through her hair. Nora arrived in her room to help her prepare for breakfast, and all the while Calathi forced a smile, acting as though nothing had happened. When Nora's companion donned a crisp, unused gown of amber, the two made their way to the dining hall and began the new day. 


	10. Breakfast

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories, but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
* * * * *  
  
1 Chapter Ten  
  
The castle was filled with the bustling of servants. King Thranduil greeted Calathi and Nora. "How are you feeling this morning, my dear?" he asked.  
  
"I am much better, your highness," she replied. "I have only a slight headache." Of course, she neglected to mention that the cause of her headache was the painful remembrance she had earlier. The King placed his kind hand on her shoulder, and immediately she felt a warmth pass through her body and ease her ache. "Thank you," she said gratefully.  
  
"I am always pleased to help," he returned. Calathi and her companion headed toward the opposite end of the hall and took a seat at an empty table at the corner of the room. The elven maiden did not feel very social at the moment, which was understandable. Nora left her friend to retrieve their meal from the kitchen.  
  
Legolas noticed Calathi across the space and smiled, remembering the words they had spoken to each other the previous night. 'I care a lot about you too,' she had said. Was it true? Legolas was surprised to feel himself wishing for it to be so. The Prince approached Calathi and stood beside a seat across from her. "May I join you?" he inquired politely.  
  
"Of course, your highness. This is, after all, your palace; or your father's palace, at least."  
  
"Yes, however I shall not sit here if I am not wanted." He smiled again.  
  
"You are welcome here, my lord. I would enjoy your company." She smiled back as he took his seat, waving a servant over.  
  
"Please bring breakfast for the lady and I," he requested.  
  
Calathi hastily interrupted him. "Forgive me, your highness, but my breakfast has already been ordered."  
  
He gave her a puzzled look. "But I have seen no servants come to your table," he commmented, "and I arrived just after you did, I am sure."  
  
"My personal servant has taken care of my breakfast."  
  
"Very well. Just breakfast for me, then," he told the servant. Then, to Calathi, he added, "I was unaware that you had brought a servant. Though I have not met your friend, um, Nora, was it?"  
  
"Yes, my friend's name is Nora, but she is also my servant," she answered. Legolas had a look of plain shock on his face.  
  
"You are friends with your servant?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," she said simply. "Is there a problem with that?"  
  
"No, no, of course not! It's just rather surprising, for most nobles here, well, they look down upon the servants." The Prince bent his head ashamedly. "I have tried to change that, but to no avail. I cannot alter tradition by myself."  
  
"Well, Nora is very nice, and she is a good friend. If the other servants are even close to as kind as she is, how can that be?"  
  
"It – it just is," he said lamely. "The rest of the nobles seem to think that, because they work for us, they are below us. I know it is wrong."  
  
"I know too, Legolas." He had to hide the smile that appeared on his face when she used his informal name for the first time that morning. "However, I also know that it is almost impossible to change the beliefs of the members of this court. I do not hold you against that."  
  
"You truly are remarkable, Calathi. You show more wisdom at your age than some of the older nobles." At that moment, Nora, the subject of their conversation, appeared, carrying two platters of food. When she saw Legolas seated at their table, she gasped and hurriedly set the trays down.  
  
"Your highness," she said, curtsying, "Shall I retrieve breakfast for you as well?"  
  
"No, that is unnecessary, thank you." He stood again and bowed. "On behalf of my father, welcome to Mirkwood." Calathi's companion blushed at the attention and curtsied once again.  
  
"I am honored, your highness." The group waited until Legolas had received his food before they ate. Calathi found herself watching the prince constantly. Quite often she found him watching her as well, and whenever their eyes met, she looked down at her food quickly. Soon, however, breakfast was over, and with it their odd show of admiration for each other. He kissed her hand lightly before bowing a farewell and disappearing in the direction of the Council assembly room.  
  
Calathi felt a pang of yearning for his company after he left, and mentally scolded herself for feeling so. His duty as Prince of Mirkwood in the Council came before sharing time with a lesser Lady of the Court, and she should know better than to feel possessive of someone she had hardly spent any time with. Besides, though she had heard him say the night before that he cared a lot about her, she did not know his true emotions for sure. It would be foolish of her to raise her hopes so high, only to learn later that he did not share her feelings.  
  
Calathi sighed, for she knew that she would not see the Prince for the entire day; there were meetings taking place within the palace. Rumors that goblins were massing in the north consumed the realm, and the entire elven kingdom was bracing itself for a full-blown attack.  
  
Such a thing had not occurred in Mirkwood for a very long while. Goblins were rarely seen outside their own boundaries, and in fact seldom bothered to conquer other areas of Middle Earth. They were not the strongest of foes, but their numbers were great. If the necessary precautions were not taken, and an attack indeed took place in the future, the battle would be a hard, long one, and the outcome would be uncertain. It was always best to be prepared.  
  
The elven maiden left the hall and spent the day walking through the gardens with Nora. Try as she might, she could not get Legolas off of her mind. Then again, every time she envisioned the Prince, her thoughts strayed to Meron.  
  
Why was she regarding Meron *again *? Frustration seized her. How was it that she could not help thinking of her long-time friend? She knew in her heart that she greatly admired Legolas, with his handsome looks and kind nature, but Meron also shared a special place within her.  
  
Though all of the other training elves discouraged and insulted her when she first began training, he did not. It was a very hard time for her, though no one could see it. She hid all of her remorseful tears from the world, and tried to act indifferently when she was taunted. Meron showed from the start that he was different; he did not seem to mind that she was female. Instead, he befriended her and helped her when none would. For that they would always share a unique bond. Calathi did not yet know if she felt of him as more than a friend, but she was sure that she did feel strongly for the Prince. She could only pray that she would not be torn in the end, for she did not know what she would do if that time came. 


	11. Visitor

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories, but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
Sorry this took so long, I know that it has been more than a month since last I posted anything. I haven't been feeling well enough to write, and I hit a major writer's block. I'll try to post again as soon as possible, but I'm not sure I'm completely through the block yet. It may again be a while, but not as long, I promise.  
  
******  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Calathi dejectedly returned to her chamber. Since Legolas was occupied, and she had let Nora explore the palace, she had nothing to do. She knew no one else, and felt rather lonely now. Finding the single pair of shirt and leggings that she had brought on her journey, she thought longingly of the practice courts. Of course, that was out of the question - she had to maintain her status as a noble lady, and ladies of the court did not practice with the elf warriors.  
  
She decided to go on a tour of the palace herself. She went first into the gardens that she and Nora had walked through earlier. The whisperings of the trees soothed her somewhat, and she sat on a bench underneath a tall willow to gather her thoughts. The palace was nicer than she had first expected. She was more comfortable surrounded by the forest than she had thought she would be, coming from a fairly open area near the mountains. And of course there was Legolas.  
  
Calathi grinned in spite of herself. Never even in her dreams had her expectations soared so high, and she was sure that her father's own hopes, though higher than her own, did not shoot for such a mark. But now she could not help wishing that the Prince would somehow grow to share her own feelings. She felt that she could truly be happy with him by her side.  
  
Now she stood up and began walking to and fro. *No, * she thought. *I cannot allow my heart to grow so close to his. Such a thing would only end in pain. * This she knew to be true. The Prince, even if he grew more fond of her, would never be allowed to - dare she say it? - marry her, despite what he had said earlier.  
  
As she paced along the path, trying desperately to take her mind off of the Prince, a horn call sounded throughout the palace. Startled out of her meditation, she became fearful, for she had not heard any horn sound yet. She realized that it could only mean one thing: someone, or several someones, were coming. Calathi raced back into the hallways of the palace, figuring that if orcs were attacking she could borrow a weapon from the stores and do her share.  
  
In the hall she found a guard walking calmly in her direction. She approached him and asked, "Sir, what does that call mean? Is the palace being attacked?"  
  
He laughed, an understanding look gleaming in his eyes. "Nay, my Lady. The single horn call simply means that the Captain of the royal guard has returned."  
  
"Oh," she replied meekly. The Captain of the royal guard? Long had she waited to meet the elf that held that title. She knew that he must be brave and strong, as necessity dictated - he was all that she wanted to be.  
  
Hardly able to control her glee, she walked quickly back into her room and ran a brush through her hair. Composing herself, she walked again into the hallway, more calmly this time, and headed toward the palace gate.  
  
When Calathi arrived she found that many other elves had come to welcome the warrior back and were now gathered around the entranceway. She stood toward the back of the crowd and waited anxiously for a glimpse of the Captain.  
  
Suddenly someone behind her whispered into her ear, "So you have come to meet the renowned leader of the royal guard, I see." Calathi whirled quickly around to find Legolas gazing warmly at her. She blushed faintly and looked down.  
  
"Yes, my Lord; long have I greatly wish to meet him."  
  
"Then your wish shall be granted now." Legolas then took her hand and drew her into the crowd before she could protest.  
  
A hush spread suddenly, and she knew that the Captain had entered. Slowly the elves in front of her parted, but Legolas, still holding her arm, stayed where he was in the now open space before the squadron.  
  
"Your highness," a deep voice began, "very glad am I to see you once again."  
  
"Welcome home, Harem," said Legolas in return.  
  
*Harem? * thought Calathi. She gasped and took her eyes off the floor to gaze at the Captain. It was Harem indeed, the same Harem she had known in Ilinar, with dark hair and searching gray-blue eyes, the same Harem who had.  
  
Suddenly she felt weak, as weak and helpless as she had when he had forced himself upon her. Suddenly she felt as a child again, unwise, ignorant, and friendless. He knees trembled, a mist seemed to appear before her eyes. He was back, he had found her. He would finish what he had meant to do so many years before.  
  
Legolas caught her as she suddenly collapsed and eased her onto the ground, looking at her deathly white face with concern. He looked back at Harem, who still stood, motionless, his eyes transfixed on Calathi. His face also seemed a bit pale, though the Prince knew not why it was so. "Have you met before?" he asked the Captain.  
  
Harem came out of a trance and stammered, "Nay - nay, my Lord. I have never met her."  
  
Legolas picked the fallen elf up and glanced at Harem with suspicion. "Never?"  
  
"No."  
  
The Prince nodded and walked back toward Calathi's rooms, holding her trembling figure. Calathi moaned and awoke, finding herself still in the arms of Legolas. She remembered suddenly how she had come there, and could hardly stifle a cry of despair. Harem, the one who had haunted her throughout her life, had returned in form and was at the palace. What was more, he was the Captain of the royal guard. Now that position held no significance to her. If such horrible creatures as him could gain that title, then it must not be worth so much. But as she inhaled Legolas' sweet scent, she relaxed. She felt safe and secure in his hold, and wished now more than ever that Legolas would love her. 


	12. A Secret Revealed

*A/N*: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the names or characters used in Tolkien's wonderful stories, but Calathi and all other characters are copyright 2002 Meghan.  
  
Thanks for your reviews!  
  
  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
As the Prince laid Calathi on her bed, he noticed that she was now conscious again and sat down next to her. She had begun shaking again, visibly shaking, though she had momentarily stopped as she lay in his hold, and her skin was still as white as it had been when she first collapsed. He longed to steady her fears, whatever they may be, and take her into his arms and comfort her. However, he did not want to risk making her more uncomfortable instead, so he remained where he was.  
  
"Calathi, what is wrong? You look as one who faces death."  
  
The lady gulped and looked at the concerned elf next to her. Could she tell him? Could she trust him? Deep down she knew that she could, but when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came. Tears welled up inside her, but she would not let them come. To weep in front of the Prince she knew would cause her more embarrassment than when she had seen Harem.  
  
"It - it is nothing, my Lord. I believe it was only the shock of meeting so famous a warrior," she lied.  
  
The prince could see it in her face. She wasn't telling him something, and what she had just said was only to cover up the true reason for her fear. "My lady, you did not act that way when you first met my father and me. Surely I match the Captain in fame?"  
  
*He must see right through me, * Calathi thought. She attempted a smile as a last measure, and failed. She could keep it in no longer. Now was the time to reveal her secret.  
  
She took a deep breath. Still looking right into the Prince's eyes, she said, "Legolas, there is something more. I have never told anyone what I am about to tell you, for it is too horrible a burden to share. Can you keep my secret?"  
  
The elf nodded gravely as he took Calathi's hand in his own. "I will not tell a soul, I swear it," he promised.  
  
So Calathi told the Prince her entire story. "I was in the woods near my home in Ilinar. I was still just a foolish child, not even five hundred years old yet. Well, Harem-" here she paused. Speaking that name brought chills down her spine, but she forced herself to continue. "Harem was already a warrior then, well known around there. I had no idea he even knew who I was, but he did.  
  
"He sought me out in the forest, where I was reading a letter under a tree. He gave me flowers, and asked me to go for a walk. I said yes, and I went with him. We walked together for a little while, and then stopped. That's when he asked me to court him."  
  
"Court him?" interrupted Legolas. "But you were too young to do that!"  
  
"I know, and I told him so. He told me we could simply not tell my father, but that's wrong."  
  
Legolas was becoming angrier at every word. *She was hardly five hundred years! * he thought. *He is supposed to be honorable! And then he wanted to deceive her father?* It was unbelievable. "My lady, I apologize now for the Captain's behavior. It was unacceptable. But trust me, you shall also receive an apology from him. I will tell my father at once!" He stood up.  
  
"Wait, Legolas!" Should she even finish? He believed her now. She could let the story end there, and then she wouldn't have to retell the worst part. Her eyes traveled to the Prince's eyes, as he stood fuming, and she decided quickly. If she didn't tell him now, she may never have another chance.  
  
"Legolas, I, I'm not finished." He only looked at her, as the truth began to dawn on him.  
  
*She's not finished?* Slowly he sat down, even as he realized what was coming.  
  
Now her tears threatened to spill over again. "Harem." she faltered. She could keep it in no longer. She began to sob. She saw Legolas watching her with sadness and pity. It was too much for her, and she stood up and walked to the other side of the room, facing the wall. Despite her efforts, he had seen her cry.  
  
Legolas was indeed filled with sadness and pity for the fragile elf before her. But he was also filled with rage. How dare any elf cause such grief for another? Who would do so terrible a thing? Harem. Harem would do such a thing, and he did. And worse, he was the Captain of the royal guard. He influenced others. The younger and less experienced warriors looked up to him. How did he not see how terrible a creature Harem was before? He would have to deal with that later though, because now Calathi needed him. He watched her weeping bitterly and all thought of the Captain passed from him then. His heart reached out to this poor elven lady, fair and proud even in times of her deepest despair.  
  
Legolas went immediately to Calathi's side and hugged her to him, whispering comforting words to her. She let her pride go and put her own arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. She tried to finish her story, but the Prince put a hand over her mouth. "You need not finish," he said. "I can guess what happened after that."  
  
Calathi shook her head. "I was able to escape when I hit him with a branch, and I ran away before he could do anything more than kiss me. I was so scared, Legolas. It was the worst experience of my life. And now I'm scared again. I can't stay here Legolas, I can't bear to be near him."  
  
"You won't have to, Calathi. I promise Harem will never hurt you again. How could my father ever have appointed such a despicable creature to the position of Captain, or to any position on the royal guard, for that matter? He will hear of this at once, Calathi. Harem won't be Captain much longer."  
  
"No!" she cried pushing herself away from him. "Legolas, please! Don't tell anyone! Keep your promise to me, I beg of you!"  
  
"But, Calathi, he must be brought to justice!" Legolas was utterly surprised at Calathi's reaction. Would not she be happy if she was assured that Harem would never do that to another, or again to her?  
  
Calathi had gone pale once again. She walked shakily to her bed and sat down, where she put her head in her hands. "I shouldn't have told you Legolas. I shouldn't have brought this upon you."  
  
"Calathi, why do you not want Harem punished? Do you think he could have changed? That maybe he feels guilty about what he did? Someone who could have done that could not change."  
  
"I know, Legolas. I just - I can't see him again. I don't know if I could survive telling that story again, especially in a public council. My heart would be torn to pieces. Please, promise you will tell no one!" She began crying again.  
  
"Calathi-"  
  
"Promise me!"  
  
Legolas saw such pleading in her eyes that he finally agreed. "Alright. But please, Calathi, do not leave. Harem will not harm you as long as I dwell in this palace."  
  
She could not even answer as she sat on the bed, hardly able to breathe because of the sobs that wracked her. What could she do? Go home to her parents? She couldn't, not unless she told them what happened. Even if she did go home, she would have to leave Legolas. That, she knew, she couldn't do, not willingly. But how could she live so near to Harem? Then she knew. She did trust Legolas to protect her. She need not fear Harem in the palace.  
  
The Prince sat next to Calathi and held her again, stroking her hair and trying his best to calm her. Slowly Calathi's tears slowed, as her fears and indecision grew less and less next to Legolas. Finally they stopped altogether, and she released the Prince.  
  
"Forgive me," she said, smiling a little as she wiped her face. "It's just, well, I feel like I can tell you anything." Legolas smiled back at her.  
  
"There's nothing to forgive, limraer lovely one. My heart is glad that you find comfort in me."  
  
"Legolas, I have to tell you something else. You need to know." She looked straight into his eyes. "Amin mela lle. I love you."  
  
Legolas was surprised for a moment. She loved him? Then his heart leapt for joy, and she took her hands in his. "Calathi, you don't know how glad I am to hear you say that. But you need to know this. Amin mela lle. I love you too.  
  
Calathi laughed and jumped into the arms of Legolas. Then their lips met, and a passion unknown to either of them encompassed them. Calathi's entire body tingled, and as their tongues intertwined, she felt giddy and happy and safe and scared, all at the same time. She feared ever losing him or what they had together. But her other feelings by far surpassed this one, and it was soon forgotten.  
  
When Legolas pulled away at last, Calathi was breathless. "No." she whispered as she pulled him to her again. Now Legolas passed his lips lightly over hers, gently, carefully this time. Calathi just let him hold her, and she didn't think she could have sat up by herself if she wanted to. Finally he stopped again, and smiled down at her as she did at him. He was the most handsome being she had ever met. Who was she to have earned his feelings? But that didn't matter anymore. She knew how he felt, and she felt the same way. She could live happily the rest of her days just laying in his arms. 


	13. A Gift

Chapter Thirteen:  
  
The next three weeks passed by like a blur to Calathi. Whenever she came near to Harem, Legolas seemed to appear, of which she was grateful. One thing at least she was sure of: Legolas was true to his word. At this rate she didn't see what there was to fear; the Prince would never let Harem get close to his love. He meant to protect her from her tormentor in every way he could.  
  
Every night he left her with a "sleep well, my Princess," and each morning they met again at breakfast. She looked forward to each meeting they had - sweet kisses in the shadows, a fair word spoken of his love for her, an unexpected hug from behind. Each day she felt her heart grow more and more toward him, and each day she thought she loved him as much as was possible.  
  
If anyone noticed their affections toward each other, they did a good job of hiding it. However, the entire kingdom seemed oblivious to the growing romance. Ever the fear of the northern goblins' attack grew. The warriors trained hard to prepare for the onslaught, which seemed all but sure to happen, and happen soon. Scouts were sent out daily to keep watch on the borders of the forest, but no news came of the march of the enemies. It seemed as though the two realms had come to a stalemate.  
  
Another two weeks passed, and still no word arrived. Anxious glances toward the north increased. Legolas became more preoccupied in council meetings all the time, and slowly Calathi's old fears seemed to return. But Harem seemed to ignore her, and he was also busy in helping to train the warriors.  
  
One night Calathi was laying in bed, trying to sleep. The thought of the goblins rested heavily on her mind, and she wondered what she would do when the attack came. Legolas poked his head into the room, checking to see if she was asleep. She had not seen her love all day, and she was overjoyed to see him now, blocking the light from the hallway.  
  
"Legolas!" she called, jumping out of bed despite the fact that she wore only a thin nightgown. She ran to him as he stepped into the room and hugged him.  
  
"I was wondering if you were still awake," he laughed. Then he handed her a wrapped box that was long and rectangular.  
  
"What's this?" she asked as she began to unwrap it. Opening the box she pulled out a light sword. She examined it in a shocked silence as Legolas' grin broadened. The hilt was silver with a sapphire on the very tip. She gripped it and smiled, for it fit her hand perfectly. Then she pulled the plain sheath off and gasped. The blade seemed to glow a bright silver in the dim light, and there were many scriptures delicately engraved on it; as she read them she found that they seemed to give her confidence and strength.  
  
"I understand your hand has been lonely without such," Legolas said. She nodded happily, interrupted from her quiet reverence, and kissed him.  
  
"Legolas, it's so beautiful...and powerful...and, and just perfect." She sighed. "But when could I put so woundrous a gift to use?"  
  
His hand caressed her cheek, and he answered, "Calathi, often I've seen you watching the warriors practicing. I could see on your face as plainly as I could read a scroll that you wished to join them. I spoke with my father only recently and told him. He has consented to allow you to begin training tomorrow."  
  
Calathi stood speechless, staring at Legolas. "King Thranduil is going to let me train as a warrior? Why?"  
  
"My father believes that skill is not determined by gender. If he feels that a maiden is strong enough to fight, then he does not hinder her learning how to. He also heard of your first journey to this palace. Of course, there has not been a female warrior in quite a few centuries." Then Legolas' expression grew grave. "To be honest with you, amelamin my love, I think that we need as many warriors as we can get. Mirkwood has not had an attack as terrible as this one is expected to be in many centuries. May the Valar grant us victory."  
  
Calathi nodded before asking, "Where did you get this sword?"  
  
"Actually, it is called Methlai, and it belonged to Taremir, the last female of Mirkwood to bear arms in battle. It has been preserved in the hope that another female as talented as her would be able to wield it. Now that hope is fulfilled. But promise me, Calathi, that you will not try to be heroic. Please, protect yourself first before all else when this battle finally comes. I could not bear to lose you."  
  
A lump rose in Calathi's throat and she hugged Legolas. "I will promise you, if you promise me the same. I love you, and I will know no joy if you do not live." Legolas only hugged her tighter before he agreed.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Nervously Calathi walked toward the practice courts. Her sword was sheathed at her waste, and she carried a bow and a quiver of arrows that Legolas had given her earlier that morning before he went off to a brief council. Of course, he promised to meet her at the training session before she began. Her muscles were tingling excitedly, anxious to be stretched and worked for the first time in a while. She was afraid that she would dishonor Legolas and King Thranduil's decision when she showed what skills she had. In Ilinar she had been strong and swift, but now she felt unpracticed and weak. The other elves might just laugh at her.  
  
A strong hand gripped her arm and she turned, smiling, to Legolas - except that it was not Legolas. She froze in her traps in horror to find Harem looking at her with a grin on his sharp face. "Please, my lady, do not be frightened. I wish only to speak to you." Then he drew her toward a room, a little forcefully, as Calathi could do nothing but go along with him.  
  
*STOP! * her mind screamed. *Don't go with him! It's a trick! Scream, kick him, do something!* But her body seemed slow to obey her mind, and before she could do anything, she was inside a room, alone, with the Captain of the royal guard.  
  
Suddenly her power came back to her. "Let go of me!" she screamed. He did and stepped away from her, putting his hands up in a gesture of peace.  
  
"Please, my lady, I simply want to talk to you. I will not take advantage of our solitude." He stood in front of the door, however, and Calathi did not want to risk going near him, even to escape.  
  
"You said that you only wished to talk last time we met. And things did not turn out that way, did they, Harem." She spat his name like it was a curse.  
  
"I am terribly sorry for my actions many years ago. I was young and foolish. But I have changed my ways since then." He looked at her, and something flickered in his eyes, though it quickly passed.  
  
"I sincerely doubt that." Calathi stared back at him with hatred and fury. "You disgust me. Let me go." Her hand passed to the hilt of Methlai, and she drew it in one graceful motion. "Let me go or I will make you let me go," she threatened, her voice full of malice. Her face was set. She was not the same young, naïve elf as she was four hundred years ago. She was more prepared this time, and she meant to show it, though her fear was ever increasing.  
  
Harem stared at her in disbelief, and he quickly stepped away from the door. Leaving the room, Calathi never took her eyes from him, but he made no move to attack her. She was safely in the hallway again when her worry and fear took over. She raced all the way to the practice courts, never looking back. 


	14. On the Practice Field

Chapter Fourteen:  
  
By the time the elven maiden reached the practice courts, she was pale and shaking. But she composed herself quickly when she noticed the other warriors watching her, and she pushed her recent encounter to the back of her mind. She turned to see Legolas approaching her, and she smiled in relief. Harem could not follow her with her love here to protect her.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked, cupping her slightly ashen face in his hand.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine now," she returned, placing her elegant fingers over his. He smiled and lead her, still holding her hand, toward a sparring area.  
  
Releasing her at one end of the ring, he walked to the other side and faced her. "Shall we determine what you need to work on?" he said, grinning wickedly as he drew his own sword.  
  
Calathi stood a little confusedly for a moment before she realized what he was saying. "What?" she gasped, putting her hands before her. "Legolas, I - I can't - I won't... what if I accidentally hurt you? No. Absolutely not."  
  
The Prince laughed. "Calathi, if you hurt me, then you are needed more than I anyway. Trust me, you won't. I think you are underestimating your own control." He gestured toward her sword, and she reluctantly drew it.  
  
"Valar protect me," she mumbled to herself before the two got into the starting position.  
  
"Ready?" he asked.  
  
"Ready." Before she could blink he lunged at her, his weapon flying swiftly through the air. Numbly she blocked each strike as her body took over. Though his sword moved like a blur, hers countered it easily. Suddenly the idea of what this would look like to others made her laugh. Here was the Prince of Mirkwood, fighting against a Lady of his Court, and she had not yet fallen. She was fighting against her true love, who was battling her as though he wanted to kill her. She grinned and decided, *all right, now how about I switch to offense? *  
  
Calathi found a gap in Legolas' pattern of strikes that she was waiting for. Quicker than he could counter her, she entered into an attack of her own. Her sword arched in a crescent toward his waist, and as soon as he blocked her she reversed the strike, aiming toward his left side. He barely managed to get his sword there in time, and he stumbled back in surprise. With a quick flick of her wrist, the tip of Methlai caught on the edge of her opponent's weapon and she pulled, yanking it from his unprepared grasp. She put her sword to his neck as he stood and waited as his dumbstruck look changed to one of comprehension and then respect. He put his hands up and surrendered.  
  
She stepped back and bowed, sheathing Methlai, and suddenly applause broke out around them. Looking around, she saw that a crowd had gathered around the circle that she hadn't noticed during the fight. They were now all cheering loudly and clapping. She blushed and went to stand beside Legolas. He took her hand and squeezed it. "You fought wonderfully, melamin my love."  
  
Her cheeks reddened even more. "I doubt I would have won if you hadn't tripped," she said modestly as the two walked out toward the archery field.  
  
"Well, I can see that we do not need to work much on your swordsmanship," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "I have not been bested in a long while. Perhaps we could try that again sometime?"  
  
"Whatever you wish, your highness," she returned, stopping to bow. He chuckled as they continued and came to stand before a target.  
  
"Let's see how your marksmanship is." He strung his bow and looked at the target, about seventy yards away. Then, in one fluid motion, he fitted an arrow to his string and fired. Calathi watched as the arrow flew to land in the center of the ring across the field. Legolas stepped back and allowed her to try.  
  
She also strung her bow, and then she closed her eyes. The target was there, in her mind, as clear as day. Quickly she opened them, notched her arrow to the bowstring, and loosed. She nodded in satisfaction when it came to land a small space away from Legolas' arrow, just off the bulls- eye. She was never the best archer in her home of Ilinar; she was only average. But she was glad to see that her skills had not dulled in that area.  
  
Legolas whistled softly. "Not bad, my Lady," he commented, mimicking Calathi's tone of formality. Then he shook his head, clicking his tongue. "It could, however be improved." Calathi gave him a gentle shove and fit another arrow to her bowstring. She closed her eyes again, taking deep, steady breaths. Still closing her eyes, she pulled the string back and shot toward the target.  
  
When she opened them again, Legolas seemed to be covering a smile and quivering with suppressed laughter. She looked and saw that her arrow was nowhere in sight. "Well, so much for that attempt," she muttered.  
  
"Indeed," Legolas agreed. "Let's stick to keeping your eyes open. You don't want to hurt anyone."  
  
The Prince worked with Calathi all day on her archery, firing arrow after arrow and watching her do the same. The sun was beginning to set as the two elves were finishing up. Finally Calathi threw down her bow in frustration, after missing the center of the target for about the twentieth time. "You need to hold your bow up higher. Your left arm should be parallel with the ground," the Prince advised.  
  
"If you're so good at this, how about you do the shooting, and I'll just stick to my sword," she suggested, stooping to pick up her now dusty bow. She scowled at her own folly and began cleaning off the grime.  
  
Legolas shook his head and said, "Because the time may come when you're facing the enemy archer, and you know you face death at that moment. If you want to live, you had better decide quickly that your bow is what you need." He dropped his seriousness and said with a grin, "How about I show you how you're supposed to hold it?"  
  
She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her, fitting his gentle hands over hers. He took an arrow from her quiver and set it to the string, pulling the bow up to shoot. She snuggled closer to his warmth and relaxed. "Now, now," he said with mock seriousness. "Concentrate." His head was over her shoulder, directly next to hers. Just as he prepared to release she faced him and kissed his cheek gently.  
  
"Amin mela lle," she whispered.  
  
Legolas loosened the bowstring and released her hand. "That's not concentrating."  
  
"I know."  
  
He chuckled softly. "Well, it's no use trying to practice now. I've lost my train of thought."  
  
"That was the idea."  
  
He spun her around to face him and kissed her forehead. "I love you too," he whispered before pulling her into another fiery kiss. When he stepped away, Calathi felt all of her energy returning. "Shall we go inside?" He offered his arm, bowing.  
  
The other elf curtsied and accepted the offer. Then the two of them strolled toward the palace, laughing at how they used the courtesies usually given to a Prince and a Lady, even though they were beyond that. No one seemed to be around them as they approached the entranceway. Suddenly they heard hoofbeats approaching quickly, and the two elves turned around just in time to see an exhausted rider jump from his horse. "The goblins-" he gasped, opening his water flask and taking a quick swig before he continued. "Your highness, they're on the march. Their army has just entered Mirkwood." 


	15. Battle

Heehehehehehehe... it's two thirty in the morning and I've found myself in front of my computer, writing this next chapter, of course. Well, this is indeed interesting. I really hope my parents don't wake up and find me here...  
  
Oh yes, and, um, Legolas of course belongs to Tolkien, as does Thranduil, the Valar (the name, anyway...), basically all of Middle-Earth... yeah, you get the picture. Please don't sue!  
  
Chapter Fifteen:  
  
I'm not ready! This is all that passed through Calathi's head as she was pulled through the halls of the palace toward her room. *It's too soon! I've had only one day to practice! Valar help me, this can't happen now! * She became numbly aware that they had reached her chambers and Legolas had shut the door to the quickly increasing commotion outside. His voice brought her out of her back to what was happening around her.  
  
"Calathi, are you sure you want to do this? Calathi!" he yelled when he realized she wasn't hearing him.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I said, are you sure you want to do this?" Legolas searched her eyes, concern evident in every feature of his perfect face. "You don't have to go and fight. You could stay in the palace until our return."  
  
"Uh, yeah, I think so. Yes, Legolas, I am going to do this." She forced a tone of confidence into her voice. "I'm fine, go ahead and prepare. I'll meet you by the front gate soon." He continued to watch her intently for a moment, as though he wasn't sure that she was aware of what she was saying, and the sounds coming from her were only half-conscious ramblings. In part this was true, but Calathi convinced him of her awareness enough by pushing him back through her door. "Go! We don't have enough time to debate this, Legolas. The enemy will soon be upon us." With that she kissed him quickly and then shut the door.  
  
Calathi rested her head briefly against the wall, fighting to keep her breathing even and calm. How could she do this? Why did she say that to Legolas? She wasn't fine. She didn't really want to do this. Her mind was reeling as she tried to take in what the rider had told them. The army of goblins had just entered the forest. They were on their way to battle the elvish warriors. The army of Mirkwood was assembling, preparing to defend the palace. She was a part of the army of Mirkwood. Which meant... oh yes. She was supposed to be getting ready for the coming onslaught.  
  
As her mind slowly got to this point in its calculations, she jumped up and raced to pull on her studded leather jerkin. She had decided against chain mail, for, even though elvish mail is fairly lighter than normal armor, it weighed her down too much. Her regular leggings would have to suffice. There was no time to find a stronger and tougher pair.  
  
She could do this. She had shown Harem that she was no ordinary female elf, and she had beaten Legolas in a fencing match. *He tripped, * another part of herself argued. *That's the only reason you beat him. * Briefly scorning the more humble side of her nature, she yanked her boots back on, quickly shoving a knife into one, and grabbed her thin metal helm. Methlai strapped at her waist, a quiver of arrows on her back, and her bow balanced on her shoulder, she raced into the hall and ran in the direction of the stables.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The Prince looked around for Calathi. It was nearly dark outside already, which meant this battle would be even tougher. Torches glinted off the silver armor of the other warriors, whose steeds were all prancing about nervously, sensing their master's anxiety.  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
He turned around and found a brown-clad rider galloping swiftly toward him, brown hair streaming behind... "Calathi!" he called back as he urged his own horse toward her. They leaned toward each other and embraced briefly.  
  
"Legolas, tell me we will win." She was trembling from head to toe. "Please, tell me we'll survive this."  
  
"Amelamin, do not fear." He looked with pity upon his frightened love and took her hand. "I know not what the outcome of this will be, but I'll always be with you. Should the Valar take me, I will watch over you from the halls of Mandos until we meet again."  
  
"I sure hope it doesn't come to that..." she mumbled. Just them a voice rang out over the clamor of the army.  
  
"Prepare, fellow warriors of Mirkwood! Battle is nigh! We shall defeat the goblins and bring peace back to our forest!" A great cheer went up. Calathi watched with disgust as Harem raised a hand to silence them. "Remember that you are fighting for your king, for your homes, and for your loves!" She and Legolas exchanged smiling looks. Silence reigned over everyone as the Captain gravely looked over their forces. When his gaze caught Calathi's his eyes lingered for a brief instant - was that a faint smile? Then he drew his eyes away and called, "Onward, friends!"  
  
The mass of elves gradually moved forward through the gate. King Thranduil's plan had been to draw any fighting away from the palace, though he was a bit frustrated that he could not join them. The council members had decided that the King was extremely important to the future of Mirkwood, and his death could not be risked. Now almost every warrior in the realm was marching into the oncoming night, and few were left behind to guard their home.  
  
Legolas made his way toward the front of the procession, determined to completely fulfill his duty to his father and his kingdom. Calathi warily followed him, wondering in exasperation why she had to fall in love with the one of the bravest elves in Mirkwood. She stuck next to him when they emerged before the rest of the army and found themselves rather close to the Captain. There arrival seemed to go unnoticed by the elf.  
  
Calathi tore her mind off the subject of the two elves to her left, who happened to be at opposite ends of her emotional list. Scanning the trees beside her, she scowled. The faint glow of the torches held by various elves in the troop hardly penetrated the darkness surrounding them, and despite her good eyesight, she could see only a small distance into the trees. The enemy could spring out at them at any moment, and the group would be unaware of it until they were practically upon them -  
  
SNAP!  
  
In a flash, Calathi had her bow up, an arrow set on its string. But it was not soon enough...  
  
Goblins jumped out at them from every angle. Most of Mirkwood's warriors were unprepared, and several were dead before the rest even knew what had happened. Legolas sprang into action, shooting as fast as he could nock his arrows. Calathi loosed the one she had at ready into the nearest creature - she noticed as she fired that they were plain ugly. They had dark, almost black skin, which appeared stretched and tight; they were underfed. Their eyes were black as well. They flung knives into the fray as more and more elves fell from their horses, wounded.  
  
The female elf drew her sword just in time to deflect a knife aimed for her. She chanced a quick look at Harem to see his reaction, and she saw that he too was using his bow. Following an arrow he shot with her eyes, she watched it land in the dirt at the feet of a goblin. *Bad shot, * she thought. Then she turned back around and narrowly avoided getting her arm chopped off. *Stupid! * Swinging Methlai, she cut the sword arm off of her attacker and then stabbed him in the chest. His features frozen in place, he fell to the ground as she pulled her sword from his body, and he landed with a sickening thud.  
  
She was dismayed to feel that she was tiring already. In fact, she was nearly on the brink of exhaustion. It had been a long day for her, and now she was working rather hard to keep herself from getting skewered on a weapon of the enemy. All of the elves around her also seemed to be somewhat gray, but still they fought on bravely.  
  
Now that the element of surprise was over, the tides had turned. The Mirkwood warriors were already driving back the goblins, whose numbers were rapidly dwindling. Calathi's sword was a blur as she hacked at her foes faster than they could defend themselves. A burning pain shot up her right arm and she dropped her sword, almost completely losing the feeling in her hand. Suddenly a goblin stood right in front of her, and he laughed as he raised his knife to kill her.  
  
  
  
Legolas saw out of the corner of his eye as Calathi dropped her sword, a deep red gash appearing on her arm. She was helpless, bent nearly double because of the pain. A merciless goblin stood in front of her, and the Prince watched as he opened his mouth in what must have been a laugh, brandishing his long knife.  
  
"No!" he cried. Pulling out another arrow - his last, he noted grimly - he aimed for the goblin and shot. It fell forward in front of Calathi, whose ashen face was set in a grimace. He sped forward on his steed and stopped beside his fallen comrade. Reaching down with one arm, he grabbed her leather armour and yanked her to the saddle behind him. She leaned forward and moaned.  
  
"Hold on, melamin my love. The battle is almost won." Pulling out his own sword, he helped his fellow warriors to beat back the goblins, some of which were already retreating into the forest.  
  
  
  
Calathi, pulling herself together as quickly as she could, found the knife she hid inside her boot and held it, ready to kill anything foolish enough to attack her or her Prince. There was no need to use her weapon, however, as the elves around her began to yell triumphantly. A portion of their forces chased after the retreating creatures, allowing none to escape. Goblins were strewn on the ground before her and all around her, piled up in some places. There were also, she was sad to see, many elves laying dead. Many fallen wounded were being helped onto horses, and still others were being tended to on the ground, too badly hurt to ride.  
  
Suddenly the fire in her arm burned anew, and she felt herself slipping from the saddle behind Legolas. He caught her before she could fall, however, and placed her in front of him instead. "Thanks," she whispered as he wrapped a protective arm around her middle.  
  
"My pleasure," he returned, kissing the tip of her ear.  
  
  
  
Soon she found herself laying in bed with a bandage over her arm. Legolas laid next to her, one arm stroking her hair. She had not allowed herself to be carried into the palace by him, however much she wanted to be. He looked as exhausted as she was, so she had forced herself to struggle to her room. There she had been tended by Nora and other servants while Legolas held her and comforted her. Shortly after, everyone had left, and the Prince and Calathi had been left alone.  
  
"Thank you for saving me, Legolas."  
  
"It was nothing, Calathi," he answered. "I would have taken that knife for you, if it had been necessary."  
  
"Thank goodness it wasn't," she returned, turning her head wearily to look at him. He kissed her and then hugged her even tighter.  
  
"You may rest now. It's over, Calathi. It's over."  
  
  
  
Dun dun dunnnn... don't worry, it's not really over... hehehehehehe. And this isn't the end. "I know not what the outcome of this will be, but I'll always be with you." Yeah, I know, that's about the corniest thing he could have possibly said, but hey, it's all I could think of, and did I mention that it's now after five a.m.? Hahaha, see what comes when you write so late? or early? lalalalalala... I suppose I should probably go to sleep now... Well, goodnight! Or good morning... oh, nevermind. All nighter's are fun! Fun, funfunfunfunfun... 


	16. Poison

Hmmm... ah, yet again I find myself typing late into the night... or early into the morning... ok, I'm not going to start that again. But, um, well, here's the next chapter. I've planned something rather dramatic for this one. Don't hate me for it!  
  
  
  
Chapter Sixteen:  
  
Calathi found herself wrapped in the arms of Legolas, which was, understandably, quite a comfortable position for her. She rolled to her other side to face him and found that he was staring at her. "Legolas?" She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, only to find that her lips met cold, unmoving flesh. Instantly she sat up and began to shake him. He was cold, so cold... "Legolas, wake up!" Her eyes became blurred while in her heart she denied what her mind knew to be true.  
  
A shadow passed over her frantic form, and the elf looked up into the most malevolent eyes she ever hoped to see. Harem was standing beside her bed, a knife in one upraised hand, dripping with some red substance... blood. His knife was dripping blood, her Prince's blood, and Calathi found herself fighting to control her flipping stomach. All around the Captain stood goblins, evil grins covering their faces.  
  
She put an arm protectively over her love and felt a wetness covering her palm. Hesitantly she brought her hand up and saw in horror that it too now dripped with the same blood that was on Harem's knife. "No," she moaned, panic seizing her as the goblins approached and grabbed her arms. Her mind was swimming, and she could not react quickly enough to stop the hideous creatures that now held her captive.  
  
She began to thrash wildly, trying to escape their strong grips. Harem slowly stepped toward her, grinning wickedly. "No!" she screamed. "Stay away from me!" Harem's smile only broadened at seeing her pathetic attempt of escape.  
  
"Oh no, my lady. It is useless to fight it." He shook his head mockingly as he stepped closer... and closer...  
  
"Legolas!" she wailed. "Oh, Legolas..." Despair at his plight took hold of her and she wept, giving up her struggle. It - life - was simply not worth the trouble.  
  
Harem caressed her cheek and she closed her eyes, succumbing to her heartbreak.  
  
"Ciuve(," he whispered, though his voice sounded distant and somewhat changed. "D(n, amelamin. Ilu(ve( eithel."  
  
She tried to shut her ears to what he had said. "Don't call me your beloved! I will always belong to Legolas, only Legolas!" He suddenly grabbed her shoulders and shook her.  
  
"Wake up, melamin!"  
  
"Legolas," she wept, hearing his voice again. "Legolas, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you!"  
  
"Open your eyes, Calathi. Wake up!"  
  
*I must be dead, * she thought. Well, in that case there wasn't anything to lose by opening her eyes. So she did, finding herself looking straight into a pair of sparkling saphire ones. "Legolas?" she asked tentatively as she reached up to be sure he was really there.  
  
"Yes, it's me. You were dreaming, but it's over now."  
  
"Dreaming? I'm not dead then?"  
  
"Well, perhaps you are..." Images before Calathi seemed to shift and change, and she found that Legolas was not really Legolas. His beautiful face had changed to that of a goblin, and she saw that she was surrounded by the dark forest. The creature that stood before her slashed her arm, the same place she had been wounded in the battle before. Now he held up his knife, ready to kill her in the same way the other goblin had tried to kill her before Legolas shot it. But now she was alone, and the Prince was not here to save her. She was helpless; there was no weapon in sight, if she could even have used one with the pain that now engulfed her.  
  
"Stop, please stop!" she screamed as she begged her mind to cease its randomness.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Legolas awoke as he hit the hard ground. *What the... * He stood up and saw Calathi squirming on the bed, tears streaming down her face.  
  
"Melamin?" he whispered, stepping toward her.  
  
"No! Stay away from me!" she screamed. He stopped in his tracks, staring down at the elf that still wept and struggled as though she were imprisoned. "Legolas, oh Legolas..."  
  
Her eyes were closed; she couldn't see him. What was happening to her? *She must be dreaming, * he thought. He caressed her cheek and whispered, "Ciuve(. D(n, amelamin. Ilu(ve( eithel."  
  
"Don't call me your beloved! I will always belong to Legolas, only Legolas!" Now he knew that she was dreaming, and he shook her to bring her out of the nightmare.  
  
"Wake up, melamin!"  
  
"Legolas, Legolas, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you!" Now she wept even harder. He couldn't let her fear continue.  
  
"Open your eyes, Calathi. Wake up!" And with that she opened her eyes and stared at him, as though he were unreal.  
  
"Legolas?" She reached up and touched his hair. Her eyes appeared to be glazed over.  
  
"Yes, it's me. You were dreaming, but it's over now." He was relieved that she had stopped shaking and crying, though she seemed somehow distant to him.  
  
"I'm dreaming? I'm not dead then?"  
  
He shook his head, concern furrowing his brow. "Perhaps you are sick," he suggested, but she didn't appear to hear him. Instead she just stared past him, a look of shock, disgust, and fear intermixed on her face.  
  
"My love?" She started shaking again. Then she suddenly screamed and held her injured arm to her. Legolas noticed for the first time that it was horrible swollen. Hurriedly he found his knife and carefully cut the stretched bandages off. His stomach sunk when he saw what lay underneath.  
  
Her deep gash appeared to have healed overnight, and the skin over it was closed. In place of the usual scar, however, a black line instead was there. Her arm was puffy and swollen, and the flesh around the wound was practically white, with a few black dots throughout it. "What is this?" Legolas mumbled. He had never before seen anything like it. Then it hit him like an arrow through his heart - poison. Of course the goblins had used poison on their weapons.  
  
Immediately he ran through her door and yelled for help. Several guards came running swiftly, and Legolas ordered them to find his father Thranduil as quickly as possible and bring him there. They obeyed, bowing slightly before running off through the halls again.  
  
Now he returned to Calathi's side. She was shivering violently and cool sweat lingered on her forehead. He found a cloth and a bowl of water and wiped it off gently, soothing the elf maiden. Suddenly her mouth opened in a noiseless scream, and she began to thrash violently again. Legolas dropped his rag and put his arms over her, holding her down to keep her from hurting herself.  
  
She stopped as suddenly as she began, lying limp in the arms of the Prince. He kissed her forehead. "Dagor, Calathi. Amin mela lle." Just then Thranduil raced into the room and toward the two elves.  
  
"What is wrong, my son?" he asked, seeing the pale and trembling female.  
  
Legolas showed him her wounded arm and let him examine it for a moment in silence before saying, "She was hallucinating, I think. She cried out in her dreams."  
  
"How did you know?" the King asked, casting a slightly suspicious glance at his son.  
  
"I will speak of it later, father. Can you help her?"  
  
"I have never seen the likes of this before either, Legolas. I do not know what could have caused it."  
  
Legolas fought to stay calm after what his father said, watching him chant over hear and rub various herb mixtures onto her black scar, all to no avail. Suddenly he realized something. "The other wounded! They were poisoned also!" Thranduil looked at him gravely and nodded. Then the Prince ran into the hall, calling for more guards.  
  
  
  
Muahahahaha... this is great. The outcome of this dilemma is mine to control! Hehehe.  
  
"Ciuve(. D(n, amelamin. Ilu(ve( eithel," means something along the lines of "Awaken. Be silent, my beloved. All is well." I researched this myself, but I have no idea how elvish grammar works, so I just sort of put it together. Sorry if it's not exactly right, but it's close enough for me.  
  
"Dagor, Calathi. Amin mela lle." This means "Fight, Calathi. I love you." Actually, literally dagor means "battle," but I improvised somewhat.  
  
I hope to post the next chapter soon. Enjoy your summer! 


	17. Ill News

Sorry this took so long! I'm having a minor writer's block.  
  
Oh, yes, and if you think that any of Tolkien's creatures are mine, or that I'm making money off this story, then you're on crack!  
  
Chapter Seventeen:  
  
Legolas immediately sent all of the guards to search every room, checking the warriors who had been wounded in the previous battle. If any of them had unusual symptoms they were to report to Calathi's room, where the King and Prince of Mirkwood were both watching over a feverish female elf.  
  
Legolas was then called from the hall by his father. "Alas," he said sadly, "I can do nothing more. I have already tried every herbal medicine that could possibly cure her, and the healing chants seem to be doing nothing. I am sorry son, but all that we can do is wait it out and see what happens."  
  
The Prince shook his head, disbelieving. A moment of silence stretched on before he pleadingly asked, "Father, are you sure?"  
  
"Aye, Legolas. You know the chants, so if you will stay with her perhaps you could repeat them? They may help in the long run."  
  
"Of course," Legolas said, his eyes slightly blurring, a rare occurrence for the elf. At that moment several guards raced into the room.  
  
"Your highness," one said, bowing, "we have checked all the wounded of yesterday's battle. None have been found with symptoms such as these," he said, gesturing to Calathi, who was staring unseeing at the ceiling.  
  
Legolas sighed in frustration. Why was his beloved the only one to be affected by the poison? Was it because she was female? It was so unfair!  
  
"Thank you," Thranduil said to the guards, dismissing them. Then he turned to his son. "Remember what I told you." He turned to go, then hesitantly added, "It would be wise, son, not to raise your hopes too high." Then he left the room.  
  
Legolas was left with only his thoughts and the plagued maiden lying on the bed. He joined her, wrapping his arms around her slender, shivering body as his tears fell into her hair. "Please, Calathi, fight this. You must survive. I can't live without you." He kissed her cheek, willing his tears away. He had to be strong for her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
That day passed very slowly.  
  
Calathi's breathing seemed to be slowing and becoming shallower by the hour. Legolas stayed by her side the entire time, singing softly to his love and chanting healing words to her. The elves throughout the rest of the palace did not rejoice over their victory; rather, they mourned for those lost and for the female who appeared to be dying in the arms of their Prince.  
  
The kingdom did not know what to think of the way Legolas was acting. He never left the room holding the sick elf. When his meals were brought to him by the servants, he ate very little, or nothing at all. He was found embracing Calathi, and looked as though he had been crying. No one had ever seen this particular elf cry before, which suggested that something between the two elves was more than it seemed.  
  
Nora paced outside her room, looking in once in a while to see if anything had changed. She suspected the truth about the Prince and her master, and though she was extremely worried, she was happy that her friend had found someone to be with her throughout the ages. The servant wouldn't let herself believe that Calathi would die. Her mind constantly denied it.  
  
Legolas had pulled Calathi close to him, and her head was now resting on his chest. He was softly kissing her hair and forehead over and over, trying to show her comfort so she could find her way out of the delusional world she was experiencing back to him. Suddenly she arched her back and began to cough violently. And as suddenly as that started, she stopped, only to hold her neck as though she were choking, her breath coming in occasional gasps.  
  
The Prince watched in horror as her skin lost its color and her eyes became dilated. Nora rushed in to see her mistress in this shape, and she sat down on a chair quickly to keep from fainting. A few minutes had passed by, with hardly any air entering Calathi's lungs, when her seizure stopped and she inhaled deeply, coughing and crying.  
  
Legolas pulled her close once again, tears silently streaming down his own streaks. *Valar help her, * he prayed. *End her suffering. * Nora stood slowly and retreated from the room, quietly thanking the Valar herself.  
  
"She can't survive for much longer," Legolas murmured to himself. "We must find a way to help her now, before it is too late." With one last kiss to his love's brow, he stood and left the room. Finding her servant outside, he beckoned to her. "My lady, please stay with Calathi. I must go and tend to another urgent matter." Nora nodded and went to sit beside the stricken elf.  
  
*What can I do? * he wondered. *I cannot just sit by while the only one I have ever loved is dying. * Suddenly an idea came to him. It did not give him much hope, but it was worth a try. Walking as quickly as he could, he went to the stables and saddled his horse. Then he galloped away into the forest.  
  
  
  
I know, this chapter is rather short. Sorry! I'll try to make it up in the next chapter, which I'll be working on as quickly as I can. 


	18. Hopes and Prayers

Well, this chapter was quicker in coming than the last one, but it's not as long as I promised. Hopefully I can find time to post the next one quickly too. I hope this is to your satisfaction!  
  
Thank you everyone for your reviews! They always motivate me to keep going. Please keep them coming!  
  
  
  
Chapter Eighteen:  
  
The forest was already becoming darker and darker. Shadows hung ominously behind the trees, and Legolas silently cursed himself for not bringing a torch. Though his vision was fairly good even in the darkness, he didn't want to take the chance that something could escape his eyes. On he rode, following the faint trail of hoof prints that had been left by the Mirkwood army on its march to the previous battle.  
  
Finally he came upon his destination. Though he had been in battles before, their aftermath always sickened him. The dead bodies of the goblins had yet to be burned, as the day had been one of rest, so most were still sprawled out where they had been killed.  
  
He looked around anxiously, impatient to find what he was looking for. A certain goblin with an arrow embedded in its chest, on the ground at the edge of an open area in the shape of a circle, caught his interest.  
  
Legolas approached it and looked at the circle. The open space was surrounded by dead goblins, most with sword wounds riddling their bodies. He went back to the creature that had been killed by the arrow. Examining it more closely by flipping it onto its back, he saw that his face was frozen in a way that made it seem that it was laughing still. In his hand it held a long knife, dark blood dried onto its blade.  
  
He pried it from the goblin's closed fingers and gasped as he grasped the hilt. His instance of connection with the knife had shown him that it was an entirely evil weapon. He dropped it quickly and bent down to peer at it.  
  
The hilt was pure black with red symbols inscribed into it. The writing was foreign to Legolas, and he decided that he would have to wait for his father to decipher it, if even he could. The blade was a plain gray underneath the blood, and the edge appeared dull. Following the keenest edge with his eyes, he came to the end and did a double take. There was no point - it had been broken off. All that was left of the tip was a jagged fringe.  
  
The Prince pulled a handkerchief from his tunic and picked the weapon up with it. Then he quickly mounted his horse and galloped back toward the castle.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Nora sat with Calathi on her bed. The maiden no longer had spasms or convulsions; she was too weak. Now she was feverish and her face was flushed. Nora quietly prayed that Legolas would return in time to save her. A tear fell down her eye as she added to her prayer that he would be back in time to at least say goodbye. Her mistress only got worse and worse, and there was not much hope left for her recovery.  
  
It was dark outside now, and a chilly breeze flowed through the room. Suddenly the doors to the room burst open and both the King and Prince entered the room, as well as a few of the healers. Nora was quick to stand and curtsy to them, but Thranduil simply waved her away and told her to sit. She did so as she stared in apprehension at the new occupants of the room.  
  
Legolas went to sit beside the maidservant and took a deep breath before beginning, "My lady, do you know of the Dark Age?"  
  
Nora jerked in surprise and then nodded, saying, "Aye, my Lord, I know of the war against the Dark Lord Sauron."  
  
The Prince continued, "I have found the blade that dealt this injury to Calathi. It is a weapon that was forged in Mordor during the reign of Sauron."  
  
Calathi's friend stared openly at Legolas. "But - how."  
  
"I do not know how the creature obtained it, though my belief is that the goblin that attacked her had been a minion of Sauron, or has been to Mordor, and so still carries his weapon."  
  
"Can you save her?" Nora's lip started trembling in anticipation of his answer.  
  
"That I also do not know. My father believes that the broken tip of the knife is still embedded in Calathi's flesh. Our hope is that when we remove it she will recover." He squeezed her hand for a moment before going to join the King at the bed.  
  
The few servants that had entered the room were arrayed around the bed and were firmly holding Calathi's arms and legs. Legolas looked at his father in surprise and worry. "She will feel this?"  
  
"I am unsure, Legolas. She may, and so we need to take these precautions. Of course, I hope that she doesn't." He patted his son's shoulder and then picked up the clean knife he had brought with him. They had to reopen the wound.  
  
Carefully Thranduil placed the knife over the black scar of Calathi and pushed slightly into her skin, and then he dragged it down the entire length. Legolas held his breath, but the she-elf did not struggle against the elves holding her. The only reaction was a slight moan coming from her. *Maybe she does feel it, but she doesn't have the strength to fight it, * the Prince thought. He cringed at the thought and prayed for the sake of his love that it wasn't so.  
  
Dark blood began to stream from the new incision. Legolas wiped it away so his father could work. Slowly the King slid the knife into the wound, and then he picked up another one and put it in parallel to the first. Next he pulled the ends apart, opening the wound further so he could find the bit of metal inside her.  
  
Thranduil scrutinized the opening for a moment, searching for the missing piece. He leaned close to one spot and then stood straight again, reaching for tongs. He faced Calathi again and took a quick breath before bending over her arm and pushing the tongs into her open skin. He moved them around for a moment, feeling for something, and then he suddenly yanked them out, a small point of gray metal held in his grasp.  
  
Holding it up to eye level, the King examined it for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. He handed the tongs to Legolas and gathered the needle and thread to sew up the incision on Calathi. He turned around again and nearly dropped the materials in surprise. Calathi's wound was healing right before their eyes. Legolas placed what he was holding on a table so he wouldn't drop it.  
  
Nora stood up when she heard the commotion coming from the bed and walked toward her mistress. She yelped and then held a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. The black specs on Calathi's arm disappeared, and the white area slowly returned to its normal color. The new scar forming over her wound was no longer black, but a healthy shade of pink.  
  
Legolas cried out in relief and confusion. He assumed that the danger was over for his love, and now she could begin recovery. The wound finished healing, and everyone stood still for a moment in shock. Suddenly Calathi screamed and sat up straight. She saw everyone and instantly stopped, her eyes coming to rest on Legolas. She mouthed, "I love you." Then she fell back and fainted dead away.  
  
  
  
So... what did you think? Again, please review! The more I get the faster I'll post the next chapter. I hope you guys like this story so far! 


	19. Morning Happenings

A/N: Thanks everyone for your reviews! Sorry again that this took sooooo darn long to write. I'm still not quite over my writer's block, so it was hard work getting through the better half of this chapter.  
  
Warning: Extremely mild smut scene here, not really bad enough to change the rating though. I don't know if I'd have the guts to go all the way... ::cough cough:: but I sorta felt that this part would add to the story. Be forewarned.  
  
Do your really need a disclaimer? Is it even remotely possible to confuse my work with Tolkiens? I don't think so!  
  
  
  
Chapter Nineteen:  
  
Nora fell onto the bed over Calathi, sobbing and hugging her mistress. Thranduil looked at his son and nodded, and the pale Legolas returned the look and offered a weak smile of gratitude. Then the King left the room with the other servants.  
  
Legolas went to the bed and gently pulled Nora away from the other elf. He was surprised when the servant turned around and began sobbing into his tunic, though he didn't mind. After a few minutes of this, Nora pulled away and apologized. Then she looked up at the Prince and gave a mischievous smile before running into the hall to leave him and his love alone.  
  
Legolas stared down at Calathi, disbelieving that it could be over so soon. She started to stir, and he knelt on the bed and planted a kiss on her brow. At this she fully awoke. "Legolas-"  
  
"Shhhh," he interrupted her. "You need to rest now. I don't want to risk any repercussions after today."  
  
"I want to tell you about the strange dreams I had."  
  
"You can tell me tomorrow, melamin my love. Please, just go to sleep." Legolas pulled the covers closer around her, tucking them in snugly. She smiled, and he turned to leave.  
  
"Wait, Legolas." He faced her again. "Must you go? I'm scared that I'm going to lose you again, the way I did in my horrible nightmare."  
  
He grinned. "Do you want me to stay?" She nodded quickly. "Then of course I will, limraer lovely one. I would never leave you in fear." She smiled gratefully again and he crawled under the covers beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She snuggled closer to him, glad to feel such a strong body behind her.  
  
Legolas kissed her hair. "Sleep now." She closed her eyes, almost instantly falling asleep. As she did so, he whispered into her ear, "I love you too." Then Legolas too closed his eyes and journeyed through his dreams, a smile on his face.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next morning Calathi awoke, surprised to notice that her arm no longer pained her. She pulled the sleeve of her nightgown up and found only a thin scar to show for her torment. She saw that Legolas still had his arms around her middle, and she slowly turned to face him. His open eyes were staring at her, and she smiled, knowing that he was asleep still. She thought of a pleasant way to wake him up, and she almost giggled aloud when she came upon one idea.  
  
Carefully, she unbuttoned his tunic and slid her delicate hands underneath, running them sensuously across his hard chest. She leaned over him and whispered into his ear, "Wake up, melamin."  
  
Feeling him shudder, she knew he was awake. She saw him blink a few times at her, a half-shocked, half-happy look on his face. Then she leaned down and kissed him passionately on his lips, and he kissed back as he moved his arms around her back and pulled her down to him. Impatiently he fumbled with the clasp on her nightgown, pulling it from its binding, and then...  
  
KNOCK KNOCK.  
  
Calathi jerked off of Legolas and clasped her nightgown before it actually opened. She ran to grab her silk robe from a chair and pulled it tightly around her as Legolas fluently swore. Then he too rebuttoned his tunic and went to answer the door.  
  
Standing in the hall was none other than King Thranduil himself, and the Prince gained a slightly pink tinge in his cheeks as he greeted the elf. "Hello, Father. What are you doing here?"  
  
Thranduil eyed his son. "I believe I should ask you the same question." He raised his eyebrow, and Legolas blushed even further while Calathi stood nervously in the room behind him. "I came to see how our patient was doing, but perhaps I need not be worried if you spent the night here to, ehem, monitor her health."  
  
"Well, father, I believe she has recovered nicely. Come in and see for yourself." He stepped aside, and the king entered. Calathi curtsied, ducking her head to hide her embarrassment.  
  
"Your highness."  
  
"My Lady, how is your arm?"  
  
"It is well, thank you, my Lord." She looked up to see him smiling warmly at her.  
  
"I am glad. Will you be joining us for breakfast?"  
  
"Father!" Legolas exclaimed. "You would not have her remain in bed after such an ordeal?"  
  
"Don't be silly, Legolas," Calathi answered him. "I am feeling perfectly fine now." When the Prince opened his mouth to protest she continued, "My Liege, I will certainly join you for breakfast. If you would just allow me to dress properly, I will be there shortly." The King nodded, grinning widely at his son's flustered look, and left the room.  
  
Legolas stepped in front of his love, a slightly angry expression on his face. "Why did you disagree with me like that? Calathi, you should not exert yourself! What if your fever returns?"  
  
"Nonsense. I am sure that I am fine. Whatever your father did to me cured me completely. Except for this scar," she muttered disdainfully, pulling her sleeve up and glaring at it as though she could scare it away. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned and before she could even blink Legolas had his lips on hers and had moved his arms around her waist to pull her closer. She reached her hands up and ran them though his silky hair, kissing him back. Gently he coaxed her lips apart with his tongue and explored her mouth.  
  
She pulled away, breathing heavily. "Legolas, we shouldn't-" she began, but couldn't finish, for Legolas had captured her lips again, lifting her off her feet and carrying her to the bed. He gently laid on top of her, successfully pinning her down. He broke contact with her lips and smiled lovingly. Slowly he pulled up her sleeve and looked at the scar.  
  
"You are beautiful, Calathi," he said, kissing the end of the scar. "Every inch of you is beautiful..." His mouth traced its entire length and then made its way to her lips again. She lost herself in him; she couldn't resist his deep blue eyes, his smooth blond hair, his creamy, hard body, his tender lips... she loved everything about him, and wanted nothing more than to make him happy. However, time pressed, and as his hands made their way back to the clasp of her nightdress, she reluctantly broke the kiss and slid away from him.  
  
When he reached for her again, she shook her head and pushed his hand away. "Sorry, Legolas, we can't do this now. Your father is expecting us."  
  
Legolas sat up and swore under his breath, making Calathi giggle. He knew she was right, and his father would surely guess what was keeping them. Though he ached to show his love for her, he had to leave.  
  
"Some other time, melamin," Calathi whispered, and grinned. He smiled back in defeat and took her hand, gently kissing her knuckles.  
  
"I will anxiously await that other time," he said. Then he left, leaving Calathi alone to change for breakfast. She chuckled to herself. *Perhaps waking him up that way wasn't such a good idea, * she thought. *I might have given him some ideas... *  
  
  
  
***Hahahahaha, how did you like this chapter? Like it? Hate it? Boring? Please review and tell me! I always appreciate them. I think I may just be over the block I've had... we'll see. I'll try to update as soon as possible, but I have this stupid summer project and my parents are pressuring me to finish it... Anyway, I'll try anyway. Tata for now! 


	20. Decision

A/N: Okay guys, I changed the rating to R, in case you didn't notice. I don't want to get kicked off fanfiction for not having a high enough rating, so I didn't take any chances. I'm not sure how far I'm going to go, but this scene coming up is kinda iffy.  
  
Note to J.C. Rocket: Wow. WOW. Sorry, I had NO idea that elves couldn't cry, though I think that not many other people do either. Are you sure? Well, in any case, I can't really change the story now, and besides, I don't know if I could write a story where everyone is so happy that they can't cry... seems impossible. Thanks for the info. though!  
  
SilverDragonWolf: Yeah, I'm going to be summing up the story, but don't worry, there's still some drama to come...  
  
*****WARNING: mushy/sappy/suggestive scenes approaching. BE FOREWARNED!!! ; ) *****  
  
  
  
Chapter Twenty:  
  
Calathi returned from breakfast with her stomach fluttering. After the incident that morning with Legolas, she was sure that the next time they were alone, he would try it again. And truth to be told, she couldn't wait.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Father, I have an important matter to discuss with you," Legolas said as he took a seat in his father's study, resting his head in his hands.  
  
Thranduil had been waiting for his son to confront him, and so he wasn't surprised at all by this request. "What is it, Legolas?"  
  
"I was wondering, what do you think of the Lady Calathi?" The Prince studied his father to see his reaction to the question. The King kept his face blank.  
  
"What do you mean?" Though Thranduil was almost sure he knew what his son was asking, he was amused by Legolas' seeming discomfort. That was a good sign; it meant that he was concerned about gaining the King's approval.  
  
"Well," Legolas began, taking a deep breath. In his mind he was fighting with himself. Should he come right out and say it? Should he wait longer? How much should he reveal? He decided to get it over with. "Father, I love her."  
  
Thranduil surprised his son by smiling. He hadn't expected such bluntness, but he was glad that Legolas had finally decided to tell him what was going on between the two elves. "I see. Well, Legolas, even if you love her, until you are married you shouldn't-"  
  
"Alright, father," Legolas interrupted. He did not need his father to give him advice on such a personal level. He already had experience in those matters, and if he did indeed plan to marry her, that type of thing wouldn't make a difference to him. "So, do you like her?"  
  
"Legolas, if you truly love her, what I think wouldn't matter to you." He winked at his son. "However, if it makes you feel better, I will tell you that yes, I do like her. I think the two of you are a perfect match."  
  
Legolas grinned. "You're right, I would love her still if you did not approve. But I am glad that you do." With that he left the room quickly in search of his love.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Calathi was laying on her bed, thinking about what it would be like to be married. *Well,* she thought, *Legolas and I could do whatever we wanted, and no one would try to stop us...* She giggled quietly to herself. *I would be married to the Prince of Mirkwood.* Suddenly she stopped giggling. *That would make me...* Calathi paled quickly. *Oh, Valar help me, I would someday be Queen!*  
  
She wasn't ready for that. It had never occurred before to her what her status would be after marriage. *I can't be Queen! I couldn't handle those responsibilities.* What would she do if Legolas asked her to marry him? She loved him, of course, but could she risk the future of Mirkwood to fulfill her own desires?  
  
She felt a warm hand on her arm and opened her eyes, finding Legolas on the bed beside her. She choked back a sob, seeing how handsome, strong, and kind he was, and knowing she might have to give him up.  
  
"What is it, love?" he asked, lifting her arm to inspect her previous wound. "Is your arm bothering you?"  
  
"No, no," she answered, swallowing her tears and forcing a smile on her face. "It's nothing really."  
  
"Are you sure?" he insisted. "You don't look very well."  
  
"I'm fine," she lied, though Legolas seemed to believe her. Suddenly his attitude changed from concern to apprehension, and Calathi looked at him curiously.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Calathi, you know that I love you, right?" he asked, taking her hand.  
  
"Of course, and I love you," she returned. "More than anything."  
  
The Prince smiled. "Hearing you say that makes me the happiest elf in Middle-Earth. Melamin, with you my soul feels complete, and I cannot imagine my life without you. I want you beside me for all eternity."  
  
Calathi gasped, her heart pounding. No, he couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying... he just couldn't be...  
  
Kneeling now, his sapphire eyes twinkling with hope and his smile transforming into a look of utter solemnity and seriousness, Legolas asked a question. THE question; the question that so many girls wait in anticipation their entire lives to hear asked to them. "Lady Calathi of Ilinar," he began as Calathi held her breath, "will you marry me?"  
  
The elf-maiden slowly let out the air in her lungs. Legolas wanted to marry her. Legolas, the PRINCE of MIRKWOOD, wanted her for his bride. She searched her mind frantically for something solid to base her decision on. And the answer came to her in an instant, now that he had actually asked her.  
  
She looked down into his pleading eyes and smiled in relief. Legolas loved her, and she loved him. He would be with her and help her through everything, and when they were married and he became King, they would rule Mirkwood together. Besides, she knew that she couldn't live without him.  
  
"Yes, Legolas," she answered as his face lit up and her eyes blurred with happy tears. "Yes, I will marry you."  
  
She became surprised when he gently slid a cool object over her finger. She hadn't realized that he was holding anything, and her moist eyes spilled over as she looked at what it was. A ring, a most beautiful ring, adorned her finger, a sign of the bond she now shared with Legolas. A perfectly round, smooth sapphire was placed in the center of the thin silver band, and two sparkling diamonds glitter brightly on either side of the blue stone. It was a perfect momento for the occasion, for the sapphire reminded her of Legolas' attractive, pure blue eyes.  
  
"Oh Legolas, it's wonderful," she cooed. "Thank you."  
  
"You're always welcome," he said, wiping her tears away tenderly. Suddenly he couldn't resist any longer and he jumped up, pushing her playfully backward on the bed and kissing her fiercly. She didn't resist as he pulled her body completely onto the bed, maneuvering himself so that he was atop her once again.  
  
His lips trailed from her mouth along her chin, and then he moved down her neck, sucking her until she moaned with pleasure. But she had to stop this before it got out of hand; after all, it was only proper to wait until marriage before consummating one's love. "Legolas," she gasped as he moved to the other side of her neck, "my love, we really shouldn't..."  
  
The Prince stopped and looked at her, and for a moment she wished he hadn't. A wicked grin spread across his face. "Tell me to stop then," he whispered, and then he kissed her again. He pulled away soon to give her a chance to speak, and she took a moment to move her thoughts from the taste of Legolas. His hands reached toward her chest, and she let out another gasp of pleasure. Try as she might, she could not bring herself to say one simple word that would end this. Having him above her felt so good...  
  
Carefully he reached toward the clasp of her gown for the third time, and still she could not tell him to stop. Why did he have to have this effect on her? How would she ever make it to the wedding if she had no control over her own actions? Legolas was so charming, how could she turn him down? The clasp was undone; Legolas reached into her gown and along her stomach, and then-  
  
KNOCK KNOCK.  
  
Calathi could have laughed, if it had not been for the deadly glare Legolas gave the door at that moment. "Ignore it," he said, turning back to her and kissing her again.  
  
KNOCK KNOCK.  
  
"Perhaps we really should see who it is," Calathi suggested, pulling Legolas' hands away from her. "They seem persistent."  
  
"I don't care..." he muttered, kissing her yet again and reaching toward her when she released his arms. Suddenly they heard the door creak, and Legolas looked up angrily at the intruder. It was Tarem, a member of the royal guard, and he looked extremely embarrassed at finding the two elves in such a compromising position.  
  
"Excuse me, your highness, I don't mean to interrupt..." He saw who it was underneath the Prince and covered a grin when he recognized Calathi.  
  
"What is it?" Legolas demanded impatiently.  
  
"I was sent to retrieve you for a meeting with your father. He said I might find you here if you were not at your quarters."  
  
"Well, I'm busy, can't my father wait?"  
  
Tarem grinned and said, "I can see that you are busy, but the King seemed rather urgent." Grumpily Legolas returned to his fiancé and kissed her a last time.  
  
"I'm sorry, love, but I have to attend to my father."  
  
"I realize that, Legolas," she said, grinning in spite of herself. "We'll see each other soon." Legolas nodded and climbed off the bed, following the guard out the door. Calathi finally let her laughter bubble out as she stood to button her dress. *Well,* she thought, *timing is everything, I suppose...*  
  
  
  
*****Well, what did you think of that one? Hahahahahaha, it was fun writing that... lol. Anyway, school is starting so I don't know when I'll get to post the next chapter. Then again, maybe I'll get so bored during school that I'll write then... we'll see.  
  
Hey everyone, could you please do me a favor? I would really appreciate it if you read "Nicki's Little Sister Aquired the Ring of Power," by Loopygirls. It's a story I'm writing with some of my friends, and it's supposed to be funny. Well, anyway, I think it is, though it isn't as detailed as this one. Pretty please? We're getting kinda discouraged because we don't have many reviewers, but maybe if some of you read it we'll be motivated enough to write the next chapter. I'd really appreciate it! Thanks! Tata for now! 


	21. The Important Matter

A/N: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I HAVE A HUNDRED REVIEWS!!!!!!!! Thank you all sooooo much for your support, couldn't have done it without ya. I remember the days when I had barely twenty... ::sighs::  
  
Ok everyone, here's the next chapter. Sorry, but I'm pretty sure you'll find this one rather boring. No, no smut in this one, nothing even close. It's just a kind of filler to get to some other things I plan to write. So if you find that this chapter is poorer than the others, know that it is because I'm so impatient to get to the more interesting events... sorry, but I doubt it will be what you're thinking. It will be better though, promise!  
  
  
  
Chapter Twenty-one:  
  
Legolas stomped with a surrounding aura of frustration into his father's study again, and when he saw Thranduil sitting behind his desk with a rather large smile lighting his face, he demanded, "What is it, Father? What is so important that you had to call me away from my love when you well know what I was planning to do?"  
  
The King cleared his throat. "Yes, Legolas, I know what you were probably doing when Tarem arrived to give you my message, and that is why I sent for you in the first place."  
  
The Prince let out his breath in exasperation. "You know what I meant, Father. I was proposing to Calathi. What if Tarem had interrupted just when I was asking her? That would definitely ruin the mood."  
  
"So he didn't interrupt when you were proposing?" Thranduil asked slyly. "What, then, did he interrupt?" Legolas blushed faintly.  
  
"Nothing that really concerns you."  
  
"Oh?" Thranduil looked slightly amused. "Never mind, I will come to that in a moment. What of the proposal? Will I be a grandfather soon?"  
  
"Not if this keeps up," Legolas muttered. When the King raised an eyebrow, a stern look on his ageless face, the Prince suspected he had heard his little comment and hastily continued. "Yes. She has accepted."  
  
"Wonderful!" Thranduil yelled, jumping up to congratulate his son. "I am so glad that you have finally found your bride. When will the wedding be? Shall I announce the engagement to the court at the festival tomorrow night?"  
  
"I must speak to Calathi first. We haven't decided those things yet. Besides, you didn't exactly give me much time to discuss it with her."  
  
"Ah, I see," Thranduil said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Yet you had time to-"  
  
"Father!" Legolas interrupted. "That is not the point. You should leave me to my own affairs."  
  
"Legolas, I only do this to preserve her reputation - and yours. If the heir to Mirkwood were conceived before you two were married, the child's life and your reign would be marred before they had a chance to begin. You know it is improper..."  
  
The Prince shut his ears to the rest of what his father was saying. He trusted his own judgment and did not need to hear Thranduil's advice - advice that he had already heard before. But if his father wanted it to be that way so badly, he would at least *try* to keep himself off Calathi. For the moment, however, all he wanted to do was be with her again. Abruptly he stood. "...and furthermore-"  
  
"Please, Father, may I go now? If you want to find out when we will have the wedding, you must allow me time to decide with her."  
  
"Very well, son. Just remember what I said."  
  
The Prince grinned inwardly. "I will." Then he left the room and made his way down the hallway.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Calathi stared down at the blank parchment in front of her, the pen and jar of ink on the table beside it. *What should I write?* "Dear Mother and Father," she began aloud, "I hated you for sending me away, but now I am grateful because I met Prince Legolas and we're in love and he proposed to me so now we're engaged and I want you to be at the wedding..." *Well,* she thought with a laugh, *that would definitely be a shock to them.*  
  
Almost immediately after Legolas had been called away, Calathi had left her room to go to the library. She knew that it was high time that she sent a letter home. Her parents must be extremely worried about her, especially after the battle with the goblins. They sure would be surprised to discover that she was betrothed already, and to the Prince of Mirkwood at that. How should she tell them? Where could she possible begin?  
  
*  
  
Dear Mother and Father, I am well and living happily at King Thranduil's court.  
  
*  
  
Here she paused. Should she tell them that she fought in the recent battle against the goblins? Her father had, after all, sent her away so that she would be safe from war. Well, they would probably find out anyway if they hadn't already, so she decided to inform them of what happened.  
  
*  
  
I am sure that by now you have heard of our encounter with goblins. The King allowed me to train as a warrior and help fight the battle, and though I was injured I am fine now.  
  
*  
  
She could leave out the gruesome details.  
  
*  
  
I know that you sent me to find a mate, and though it may surprise you, I have found my future husband. There is no easy way to tell you this, but rest assured that we are very much in love. He has proposed, and I gladly accepted. It is my great wish for you to attend the wedding. I would like you to be there to see me crowned as Princess of Mirkwood, for I am to wed Prince Legolas Greenleaf.  
  
Though I do not know when the wedding will be, it will most likely be held soon. I will send you a formal invitation when the date is decided. Please send my regards to everyone in Ilinar. I look forward to your visit.  
  
Your Daughter, Calathi  
  
*  
  
Calathi reread her letter and stuck out her tongue. The way she told them about her engagement was abrupt, but she could think of no better way to reveal it, so she rolled up the parchment, sealed it, and tied it with a ribbon.  
  
Quite suddenly she stopped, her numb fingers dropping the end of the bow as she remembered an important matter.  
  
Meron.  
  
How could she forget him? He had been so accepting and kind to her from the very first time she met him. He wouldn't be angry with her for not writing, would he? She cared so much about him that she couldn't bear that thought. Now that she knew that she didn't love him as she did Legolas, all she wanted to do was tell him everything as she used to - excluding, of course, the matter of her mixed feelings for him...  
  
Quickly she laid out another parchment and began writing. This was much easier, since she couldn't tell him what she wanted to on paper. She had to see him and speak in person.  
  
*  
  
Dear Meron, How are you? I'm very sorry that I didn't write you before this. A lot has been going on at court lately. I really need to see you again and tell you a few things. Please, could you come and visit the palace soon? It would mean a lot to me. You are such a great friend, and I miss you dearly.  
  
Calathi.  
  
*  
  
*All right,* she thought as she read over the letter. *This one isn't much better than the other one, but I hope it will be enough to convince him to come.*  
  
  
  
****And so another chapter ends. You thought it was boring, didn't you? HA! I know what you're thinking, you can't hide it from me... Sorry again, I'll try to update soon though! 


	22. Plans

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews! I'm glad that you seem to be enjoying my story. Well, here's twenty-two, and it could seem boring to some of you... it was intended as a sort of filler... but then again, it is probably more interesting (and perhaps funnier, too) than the last.  
  
Whoa, I think that I am slowly changing the behavior of my characters from elvish to that of modern-day humans. Sorry if that's what it seems like to you guys... sometimes I just can't help it. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one!  
  
  
  
Chapter Twenty-Two:  
  
Calathi flopped onto her bed after placing the letters on her bedside table. Right now, all she wanted was a nap. The excitement of the day was weighing down on her, and though she wanted to speak with Legolas, she couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to wait for him. *Oh well,* she thought. *I'll talk to him later...* She was very soon asleep, and the sound of her light breathing was lost in the rustle of the curtains. The weather was growing chilly as winter swiftly deepened.  
  
Legolas stood in the doorway, savoring the sight of his love sleeping so peacefully. He had only just returned from his brief search of the gardens. His father was waiting for their wedding plans, but the Prince could not bring himself to wake the tired elf. Quietly he went to the bed and pulled the blankets over her, climbing on top when he finished. Gently he placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, and then he relaxed as he watched over Calathi's sleeping form.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Calathi sighed. When was the last time she had felt so comfortable? Had she ever even been this comfortable before? She knew she should get up - there were a lot of things she needed to decide with her love. *Aha,* she thought as her eyes came into focus and she smiled. *It was all his doing...*  
  
Legolas' pure eyes were fixated on her, a dreamy, contented look in them. She knew that he was probably asleep; his face did not register the fact that she was awake. Carefully, trying not to wake him, she slid from his grip. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she saw her letters and remembered her errand. But as she reached toward the table she was suddenly yanked backward where she landed on the pillows with a grunt.  
  
"You're not getting away that easily," Legolas, who had pinned her down onto the bed, said roughly.  
  
The elf giggled and muttered, "I thought you were asleep."  
  
"I was," Legolas returned. "But you can't leave me without my heart feeling the loss." He swept down upon her and kissed her fiercely. Calathi returned it, and was suddenly surprised when he pulled away.  
  
"What...?" she whispered as she searched his face for a clue to his action.  
  
He looked strained as he sat up. "We don't time for this yet. We must discuss a few important matters first."  
  
"I see." Calathi snickered and ran her tongue over her full lips as she sat up and leaned toward him. "No time for... this?" she whispered. She was pressed so tightly against him that she could literally feel his muscles become tense as her warm breath tickled his ear. She lifted her hand and trailed a slender finger along his jaw as she asked again, "Are you sure?"  
  
He moaned and turned to kiss her. This lasted several moments before he broke it again, leaving Calathi breathless and wishing for more. "Stop that," he ordered in a playfully stern voice. "I can hardly contain myself as it is."  
  
"Ah," the maiden said thoughtfully, "so my first attempt at seduction was a success?"  
  
"Nearly," the Prince responded.  
  
"I suppose I'll have to try it again sometime then, won't I?" Calathi ran her hands through his silky hair and leaned toward him.  
  
"There's no need, melamin," Legolas muttered as he pulled her face toward his. "I want you already." Their lips met yet again, and then Legolas pulled away in frustration. "Do you see what you do to me? If we are ever going to complete are plans we need to stop and talk now."  
  
Calathi nodded in agreement. 'So when would you like the wedding to be held?"  
  
"I would like it to be tomorrow," he stated, causing the other elf to laugh. "But I know that's a very unlikely scenario."  
  
"Indeed it is."  
  
"How soon do you want the ceremony to be?" he asked.  
  
"That depends."  
  
"On what?"  
  
"How soon you want it to be."  
  
"I asked you when *you* want to have it."  
  
"And I said that I want to have it when you want to have it," she retorted.  
  
"All right, you win. I want it as soon as possible. Is that okay with you?"  
  
"It's just what I was thinking."  
  
Legolas grinned. "Great. I think that the soonest my father will allow the ceremony to be is in three weeks, on the day of the Midwinter Festival. How do you feel about our engagement being announced to court tomorrow night at the Victory Feast?"  
  
Calathi looked down, biting her lip. Once everyone knew that she was the future princess, they would treat her differently. Her tenseness did not go unnoticed by Legolas. He lifted her chin, staring directly into her eyes. "Amelamin, please, do not be worried about this. It cannot be helped. Everyone who knows you loves you, and everyone who doesn't will love you once they meet you. Trust me: you will be a great princess, and someday a great queen."  
  
Calathi leaned forward and hugged Legolas tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "I just hope that no one treats me like I'm fragile."  
  
"You know that you're anything but fragile," the Prince assured as he released her.  
  
"Yes, I suppose, but do they?"  
  
"If they don't then I will tell them. The battle was proof enough for me."  
  
Calathi shuddered, remembering her nightmares, which she had yet to tell her love of. "Tomorrow night it is, then."  
  
Legolas grinned. "Yes, though I do not know if I can wait three weeks before I can really express my love for you."  
  
The elven maiden grinned back. "Then don't," she said simply. Legolas' surprise was openly displayed on his face.  
  
"Are you sure you mean that?" he asked tentatively. She nodded, still smiling, and so he gently laid her back on the bed. He kissed her tenderly, and she wrapped her arms around him, enjoying even the taste of her love. His mouth trailed down her neck to the edge of her gown as Calathi began to unbutton his green tunic. At this point he reached for the clasp of her gown, fumbling for a moment before it finally came undone.  
  
Then...  
  
Yep. You guessed it.  
  
KNOCK KNOCK.  
  
Legolas was off the bed in one abrupt motion and stomping toward the door in the next, his tunic still open to reveal his incredibly hard (A/N: sorry, I just have to include this... and HOT) chest. He yanked it open just as Calathi finished reattaching the binding of her gown, and he glared at the King.  
  
"Yes, Father?" he grumbled through clenched teeth.  
  
"May I come in? I would like to speak with my future daughter." Legolas stepped aside and Thranduil entered, not missing the fact that his son was nearly on his way to being undressed. Calathi, who was standing by then, took a step forward and curtsied.  
  
"Your Highness."  
  
"Ah," he said, smiling, "I see that you are adapting to royalty protocol nicely. I am sure you will make quite the Princess. However, there is no need for you to be so polite with me, for we will soon be family." He hugged Calathi briefly and she smiled in spite of herself. The King had turned out to be nicer than she thought he would. Now she was positively sure that she would enjoy being a Greenleaf.  
  
"Am I to announce the happy news tomorrow?" he asked the couple expectantly. Legolas nodded impatiently, eager to be left alone again with his future wife. "And did you decide when you wish to have the wedding?" Legolas nodded again, and Calathi elbowed him inconspicuously in the ribs.  
  
Thranduil quickly coughed to cover up his laughter, and Calathi answered his previous question. "Is the Midwinter Festival to your liking, my Lord?"  
  
The King frowned briefly. "Isn't that a bit soon?"  
  
"It's not soon enough," Legolas muttered, barely stifling a cry when he received another elbow in the gut. He looked at Calathi, who was glaring sternly at him, and sighed. "That is when we would like it, Father."  
  
"Is that so?" Thranduil glanced at the female elf and she nodded her agreement, wondering if the King would allow it. "All right then," he consented - Calathi just barely kept herself from jumping up and down in glee. "You realize that this means that everything must be prepared quickly - including your bridal gown, my dear. I shall send the seamstress to your quarters tomorrow to discuss the design so she may begin the work."  
  
"Thank you, Lord." She curtsied again.  
  
"You are always welcome. You should get to bed - it's getting late, and you will probably be up late tomorrow night. That includes you too, Legolas." The Prince nodded reluctantly. "Come along, then - you can sleep in your own bed tonight." Calathi blushed and gave Legolas a quick kiss goodnight, and then, somewhat shyly, offered a hug to her soon-to-be Father-in-law, who accepted happily.  
  
The two were just about to leave when she remembered her letters. Quickly she grabbed them and ran back to the King. "Please, my Lord, could you send these to my friend and parents in Ilinar? I would like them to hear the news from me, rather than gossip that spreads through Mirkwood."  
  
Thranduil readily accepted them. "I shall send my fastest messenger." Calathi thanked him once again and watched them go: one pleased King and an extremely frustrated Prince.  
  
  
  
  
  
****What'd ya think? Review please! 


	23. The Victory Feast

**A/N: Hey everyone! Once again, I apologize for the time it took me to get this posted. I made it extra-long though, to try to make up for it. You get an entire day in one chapter! Oh the excitement! Well, since I have a fairly good idea set for the next few chapters, they should be coming a bit quicker.  
  
Bride of Legolas, I LOVE YOUR STORY! SARAN WRAP ALL THE WAY BABY! HahahahahahahaHA! I'd recommend that everyone read it, but then it would make my story look bad... :) And in your review, "...his tunic was open to reveal his incredibly hard..." Lol, I didn't even realize what that sounded like when I wrote it. Glad you thought it was funny though!  
  
Hmmmmm... I have quite a few notes to make here... skip if you must, but then again, it may be beneficial to read...  
  
a. To any new readers, just to let you know, I almost always read the stories of the people who review my story... (wink wink) I must tell you, though, that I generally read only stories pertaining to Lord of the Rings, since that is my obsession in life, and I especially like romance stories (in case you couldn't tell...).  
  
b. If anyone would like a beta-reader, I'd be happy to help you, since I'm pretty good with grammar. Mostly, the mistakes in my stories are there because I don't always have time to reread a chapter before I post it, so I don't catch my typos, or because I choose to create sentence fragments for a specific emphasis on something. If you're looking for advice along the lines of LOTR history or factual information, I suggest that you DON'T ask me because I am no genius in that type of thing, though I have read the series.  
  
c. Ummmm... what was I going to say? Ah yes. Read "Be Careful What You Wish For and "BCWYWF Part II" by Bride of Legolas, because they're the BEST stories EVER!! YES!  
  
d. And again, I ask anyone who is in the mood for a funny LOTR story (or at least I thought it was funny), please read "Nicki's Little Sister Acquired the Ring of Power," by Loopygirls, a coalition of friends which I am a part of. Short summary: After a sleepover at a friend's house with the most annoying little girl ever playing "Fishin' Around" over and over and over again, a portal is opened, and guess who takes the ring from the fellowship during the Council of Elrond? That's right, HALEY, the annoying little girl!! The five friends at the party decide to go with them on their journey to protect her, since she is Nicki's sister, after all, though they later regret it... lots of suggestive events, sex jokes, drug references, and miscellaneous little things. Please review it if you decide to check it out! Thanks.  
  
Moving on, here's what you've been waiting for!  
  
Chapter Twenty-Three:  
  
Water splashed down as Calathi scrubbed her face. She had gotten up early in anticipation of the day (and the night, which promised to be exciting), and soon she cursed herself for her impatience - now she would have to wait even longer for the festivities to begin. Feeling more refreshed and slightly less anxious, her face flushed pink, she stepped in front of the mirror.  
  
She looked about the same as she had the day she left Ilinar - and her old life - behind, except that her hair was tousled and a scar became visible on her arm when she lifted the sleeve of her nightgown. Oh, how she loathed that scar. Not only did it disturb the flawless, smooth skin of her body, it reminded her of the way it had felt to see Legolas laying dead beside her. She prayed now with all of her being that she would never experience such a nightmare as reality, and that she would not be left behind when her love departed for Valinor.  
  
Turning her attention once again to her hair, she began to comb it through until a brisk knock sounded at the door. A bit confused, she pulled her robe over her current attire and opened it. An elf carrying a rolled parchment and a few bolts of cloth curtsied to her.  
  
"Good morning, milady. I am Himlome, the court seamstress," she said in a pleasant voice. Her hair, light brown in color, reached midway down her back, and she stood just below Calathi in height. "This is my apprentice, Naraloth," she continued, and it was then that she noticed the meek, young- looking elf standing behind Himlome. Naraloth quickly curtsied as well, and Calathi had to lunge forward to keep her from falling and dropping the armful of materials that she was carrying.  
  
"I - I am sorry, milady," she hastened to apologize, quickly turning a light shade of red as she regained her balance.  
  
"That is quite alright. Would you like some help?" Calathi asked, reaching out to take some of Naraloth's burden.  
  
"Oh, yes, thank you." The younger elf appeared to become more at ease when the soon-to-be Princess smiled at her. The three proceeded into her room, shutting the door behind them and discarding the items onto a table.  
  
"Forgive me for not being dressed; I was not expecting you until later."  
  
Himlome smiled. "It's all right. It will be easier to take your measurements this way. His Majesty seemed to suspect that you would be awake by now." Calathi blushed faintly.  
  
The seamstress gave her a knowing grin, bringing out her measurement tools. "I am aware of your engagement, milady. Why else would I be assigned to constructing a wedding gown? And with a direct request from the King, no less."  
  
Calathi laughed, relaxing. Of course Himlome would understand how she felt. She was the court's seamstress, after all, and had likely fashioned the garments for many weddings, therefore experiencing the anxiety of numerous brides-to-be. "Are you married, Himlome?" she asked as the apprentice helped her mistress to take her measurements, wrapping a ribbon around her in various places.  
  
"Ah, yes, to my beloved Anfaroth. He is away on border duty, however." The seamstress' brown eyes became somewhat downcast. Calathi saw her disappointment and regretted her question.  
  
"And you miss him," she stated quietly.  
  
"Yes, very much." Himlome's manner changed abruptly when she opened up one of numerous parchments and laid it out on the table. "What do you think of this one?" she asked enthusiastically.  
  
Calathi looked at the elaborate sketch and grinned. This was going to be fun.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Shivers ran all along the maiden's spine as she stood and looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Did I say how grateful I am for this?" she asked.  
  
"Only about a hundred times," Himlome laughed.  
  
Naraloth grinned as well. "You look stunning. Legolas will be out of his mind tonight."  
  
The Calathi chuckled, her stomach fluttering with anxiety. "I hope so, after all the time you two spent doing everything."  
  
"Have no fear," the seamstress encouraged. "I have no doubt that every male elf at the festival tonight will be jealous of your fiancé when they see you." She rested a hand on Calathi's shoulder in support. "You will be fine, trust me."  
  
Someone knocked on the door, and Calathi glanced at it nervously. "That must be my escort," she announced, and Naraloth went to admit the gentlemen. In her mind Calathi was praying that it would be someone she knew and was comfortable with, rather than a stranger who would make her anxiousness increase. A tall, blonde-haired elf stepped into the room, and when he turned to her, she breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
He studied her for a moment, caught rather speechless, before recovering and greeting her. "Good evening, My Lady. As usual, your beauty enchants me. You need no decorations to look lovely, though I must admit that they only compliment you more." He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on it while she fought to keep her face its normal creamy color.  
  
"Thank you, my Lord," she managed to say as she placed her hand on his outstretched arm.  
  
"Always a pleasure. But please, you need not address me with such titles. It has always been simply Telmon." The two exited the room, and Calathi glanced behind her to see Himlome wink at her and smile. She grinned back and then strolled with Telmon toward the celebration.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Legolas's eyes searched through the crowd in the banquet hall. From his position beside the King, he could not see the closed archway leading to the outer hall. He knew that he wouldn't be able to catch a glimpse of his love before everyone anyway, since their engagement announcement was to be made before she entered the gathering area. A servant was placed beside the door to alert the King as to when she arrived, and now the Prince watched him carefully for a hint of her presence.  
  
His attention was drawn away from the door when he heard a familiar voice speaking beside him. It was a struggle to hide his anger when he turned to find Harem talking to his father in a slightly hushed tone. However, as elven ears were very perceptive, the Prince could decipher every word, as could many of the other milling elves, if they had chosen to listen. "Your highness, why do we not proceed into the dining room to begin the feast? I fear that if I wait much longer, the grumbling of my stomach will stifle all other sounds in here!" he laughed.  
  
"I wish to address the court formally first, Harem," he answered.  
  
"My Lord, could you not speak to us while we sit? We will be served more quickly that way."  
  
"The feast will begin soon, I promise you." Thranduil nodded his head in a dismissal, and Harem's false smile barely hid the scowl on his face after being denied. The King didn't notice though, and as the Captain joined the group in front of the thrones he turned and winked at his son. Legolas faced the entrance now and saw a servant heading in their direction. His anticipation increased still more when the elf whispered to the King and then returned to the kitchen.  
  
Thranduil cleared his throat and called for the attention of the nobles. "Ladies and Lords, I have a very special announcement to make." The room suddenly became silent as everyone stopped their conversations and watched the King. "My son has waited long to meet his match, and has been well rewarded for his patience. He has chosen his bride." Whispers passed among the crowd, looks of surprise and shock on many faces, and even a few Ladies appeared angry that someone else had taken the heart of their conquest.  
  
He held up his hand, and the assemblage slowly quieted again. "There will be a royal wedding at the Midwinter Festival, in three weeks' time." Murmurings spread as everyone cast confused glances at each other. Thranduil continued. "This Lady is strong, elegant, and kind, and will undoubtedly meet all of your expectations for a royal. I present the future Princess of Mirkwood, bride-to-be of my son, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, daughter of Demeron Laurelad, the Lady Calathi of Ilinar."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Absolute silence. Great, that was just what she wanted - every pair of eyes in the entire hall fixated directly on her. Her nervousness increased tenfold as Telmon released her arm and stepped aside, giving her a reassuring smile. He wasn't going with her? Now she could hear the dimmed voice of Thranduil filtering through the closed oak doors before her, though it all passed very slowly in her mind.  
  
"...chosen his bride..." Oh, for goodness sake, couldn't he just say 'here is your future Princess' and be done with it?  
  
"...at the Midwinter Festival..." Why couldn't they tell everyone that later? The wait was an agony!  
  
"...will undoubtedly meet all..." What was going on? Why was one introduction taking so long? She would have to have a chat with her future father about using unnecessary adjectives to prolong torture...  
  
"...bride-to-be of my son..." Did she really need so many titles? Yes, that would be her first legislation passed when she became Queen... everyone must be called by their first name alone.  
  
"...daughter of Demeron Laurelad..." Oh no! Where should she put her hands? Her hair wasn't disturbed, was it? Oh, Valar, that couldn't be a loose stitch in her gown...  
  
"...Calathi of Ilinar." She took a deep breath and tried to stop shaking. The deafening quiet made her ears ring as the heavy doors were pushed open.  
  
* * * * *  
  
*Move, move!* Legolas silently commanded the elves blocking the entrance from view. It was opening now, yet he couldn't see his love through the throng blocking the way. Any sounds presently ended as the maiden became visible, and the Prince knew why when the crowd parted and time seemed to stop.  
  
Calathi's gown glittered brilliantly in the fading light of sunset that entered the room through tall windows. Its hue matched the wreath of mallorn leaves in her hair almost exactly, surpassing the radiance of the most valuable elven-crafted jewelry. Her shiny brown locks draped over her back in loose ringlets, and two tiny braids beginning above each dainty ear were pulled together elegantly behind her head. It hugged her figure, accenting her curves and revealing little of her chest. Her sleeves flared gracefully, reaching almost to the marble floor from behind her wrist, her slender fingers showing in front. Legolas made a mental note to ask where she had gotten the leaves of the mystical Lothlorien trees.  
  
She stood calmly, as cool and confident as ever. Her chin was level, and her eyes met evenly with those of the other elves in the room. They watched the hushed people for a moment before gazing down the open space to meet those of Legolas. She smiled brightly, her aura instantly changing from stern and commanding to kind and endearing. Most in the crowd smiled with her, unable to deny the happiness filling the room. But there one elf there who didn't smile...  
  
* * * * *  
  
She was terrified - absolutely out of her wits as she looked at everyone in apprehension. *I can do this, I can do this...* she said to herself over and over. It took every ounce of her courage to not stare at the ground or retreat to the safety and confinement of her room. Slowly her eyes drifted as she gained control of her senses. Standing at the front of the hall, watching her with admiration and love, was Legolas.  
  
He was dressed in a tunic of dark blue, his blonde hair hanging straightly with two braids in front on either side of his handsome face. Their eyes met, and she saw in his every bit of what he saw in hers, a mutual feeling shared between the two elves, so strong in its passion that the rest of the world seemed to disappear when they were together.  
  
She couldn't help it anymore; her reserved and passive façade dropped and she smiled, a smile so pure and true that her happiness spread to the other elves and they all smiled as well. Her fear left her, and suddenly she could move again.  
  
She took a step forward, and then another, and it seemed forever to the Prince. Then there was a third, and a fourth... The maiden seemed to glide across the floor to meet her future husband. Finally Calathi stood in front of the King and curtsied, bowing her head respectfully.  
  
"Come, dear. Stand beside my son, for this celebration tonight is not only to commemorate our victory over the goblins, but also in honor of the future royal couple." The silence was broken as everyone clapped and cheered loudly, and Calathi straightened and went to her love, who entwined her fingers in his and grinned. Amidst the commotion, no one saw the Prince lean down and whisper something naughtily in her ear, his lips brushing the delicate point; everyone simply wondered why their future princess was blushing only after the noise had died down.  
  
"Now, my friends, we feast!" Thranduil made his way through a large arch and into a room with tables lined in rows throughout it. He was followed by Legolas and the still beet-red Calathi, who in turn were followed by the rest of the nobles. The lady imperceptibly pinched her fiancé, whose yelp of surprise was lost in the murmurings of the group behind them.  
  
"I would appreciate it, my Love, if you would keep your inappropriate comments to yourself," she muttered to him. "They can wait until we are not surrounded by other beings with extremely good hearing."  
  
"I'll try to remember that, melamin," he laughed, "though it may be difficult when you look so enticingly exquisite." They had reached their place beside the King at the center of the foremost table, lavishly arrayed with silver platters and goblets. Alternating pale and dark blue curtains were suspended around the walls, which filled the room with a crisp, wintry atmosphere, and the rich scents of the meal to come wafted through the air.  
  
The elves stood behind their chairs and waited for everyone else to find their positions before Thranduil held out his hands and gestured for them to sit. Legolas, being the perfect gentleman, despite his lack of modesty, pulled out the chair for Calathi and sat only after she had settled.  
  
The engaged couple was stationed to the right of the King. When Calathi scanned those in attendance in an attempt to find Telmon, she caught sight of the elf on the left side of Thranduil, and immediately, all thoughts of thanking her escort flew out of her mind. "Legolas," she said urgently, "Love, do you realize who is on the other side of your father?"  
  
The Prince glanced to his left and discovered that the King was deep in conversation with Harem. He scowled, remembering the days when he had been on friendly terms with the Captain, discussing all types of things at the many festivities he had been present at. He used to believe Harem was matchless in strength and gallantry; now he knew better. He was still matchless, all right, but it was at the opposite end of the respectability spectrum.  
  
Legolas turned back to Calathi. "I am sorry about this. My father has always been close to him, and believes that he deserves a place of honor beside him. But I promise that I won't let him come near you tonight. You need not worry about that, so please just enjoy the celebration. Do not let him ruin your evening."  
  
The elf maiden smiled in gratitude. "How can I be afraid when you act so valiant on my behalf? Did I mention yet that I love you?"  
  
"Yes, you have." Legolas grinned wolfishly, leaning closer to her. "But I can never get tired of hearing it." Their lips met, and all the sounds from around them instantly ceased as they forgot everyone else. They were in their own little world, expressing their unrelenting passion for each other. But suddenly someone intruded into their paradise.  
  
"Ehem..." Legolas dislodged his tongue from its current activity, and the world came back into focus for the two elves. "Please, you two, save your intimacy for later or your food will get cold," Thranduil advised.  
  
Calathi giggled and shared a look with the Prince before turning to the delicious-smelling meal before her. All thoughts of Harem had been forgotten for the time being.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Approximately an hour later, Calathi was trying hard not to fall asleep. Eating until her stomach was nearly bursting, she felt lazy and was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Not to mention the fact that she had had several refills of her goblet, which was rather large to begin with. A tune started up out of nowhere, soon bringing everyone from the tables to the open floor in the Grand Hall. Legolas stood and bowed to the future Princess, offering his arm. "May I interest you in a dance, my Lady?" he asked politely.  
  
Calathi chuckled quietly, though it soon developed into an unchecked laugh as the wine began to take its affect on her. "Certainly, your highness," she managed to gasp. She rose as well and took his arm, and they entered the hall.  
  
The maiden only giggled more when Legolas placed a hand on her hip. She followed suit by resting her hand on her shoulder, and then they began a moderately paced dance, flowing to the rhythm in movement so fluid it can only be expected of an elf. Calathi enjoyed herself quite thoroughly, expressing her unveiled joy and sharing it with everyone around her.  
  
When it was over, she accepted another glass of wine from a milling servant. She was prepared to have as much fun as possible tonight, and of course, as everyone knows, alcohol only increases giddiness. Legolas took one as well, and soon they were dancing again.  
  
Thranduil watched his son and soon-to-be daughter, both positively radiating unalloyed bliss. He could see as plainly as the stars on a cloudless night that they were made for each other. Perhaps three weeks was not too soon after all, and they truly were ready for marriage. His uncertainty dissolved into gladness, and he smiled to himself, suddenly looking forward to becoming a grandfather.  
  
Later in the night, the Prince found a few strategically placed chairs in a corner, away from everyone else. He and Calathi sat down for a brief rest, and they watched the merry elves singing and dancing together. When the Prince looked over at his love, he laughed. She was lying sideways on the chair, her head rested on one arm and her legs dangling over the other edge. Gently he nudged her awake, and when her eyes came into focus she realized where she was and laughed. "Sorry, my Love. I suppose the night has lasted longer than I have the energy for."  
  
Legolas nodded and helped her up. "I believe that we should excuse ourselves then. I will help you to bed." Calathi agreed, and they went to find the King to take their leave of the party.  
  
When they found him, Harem was talking with him yet again. The Prince hastily interrupted. "Father, the Lady and I are both rather exhausted, and ask for your permission to retire to our quarters."  
  
"By all means," Thranduil granted. "I see that you have survived the formality of the evening," he ascertained, grinning at Calathi. She nodded, her cheeks tinged slightly pink. "Good night." The King inclined his head to his son and brushed a kiss on the maiden's fingers.  
  
"Good night," the couple answered before departing from the festivities, Legolas with his arm around Calathi's waist.  
  
Once the two elves had left the main hall, Legolas looked at his love, who was practically stumbling in her fatigue (and probable drunkenness). "Maybe you should stay in my rooms tonight," he advised. "It is less of a walk to them than to yours." Wearily she consented, and the Prince led her down the corridor a bit before turning left onto a small covered walkway of white marble. A short distance later Legolas held a door open for Calathi, and she stepped into it and looked in awe at the beautiful furnishings.  
  
Exquisite paintings of what she suspected to be the Great River, the Anduin, and the Falls of Rauros, with brilliant sprays of water splashing over the canvas, were mounted on one wall. On the opposite side there was a grand fireplace, flames dancing gaily in the hearth, and the Prince's bow was mounted above the mantle. She spotted another door, most likely leading to the privy. A desk, upon which there was a jar of ink and a quill, was positioned on the left side of the fire.  
  
Wide windows extended along the far wall of the prodigious chamber, through which she saw stars twinkling vividly. The moon shimmered between the branches of frost-claimed trees. In the center of the two middle windows was a four-posted bed, dark green curtains canopied overtop the neatly made sheets. Calathi looked at Legolas, who was watching her with a bemused expression on his face, and she realized that she her mouth was open in wonder. She closed it quickly, and he helped her to the bed.  
  
Calathi flopped onto her stomach on it, and the Prince laughed and unfastened the laces on the back of her gown for her. She pushed herself up with a grunt and, with the help of Legolas, pulled the fine garment off, exposing her thin shift. Then the Prince pulled back the covers and she laid down, watching as he discarded his own tunic and climbed in next to her, wearing only his soft satin breeches.  
  
She snuggled closer to him, and he put his arms around her, kissing her neck softly. "Thank you, Legolas."  
  
"For what?" he asked, leaning over her to look at her face.  
  
She smiled up at him, turning onto her back underneath him and studying the flecks of light blue in her love's eyes. "For an absolutely perfect evening." He grinned and pressed his lips to hers.  
  
Legolas traced her chin with soft butterfly kisses, and then traveled to her neck and up to her ear as she tingled with emotion. "It was my pleasure, amelamin," he answered, pulling her tighter to him. That was as far as their exploitations reached that night, for they were both so content and happy that their desires were fulfilled for the time. Calathi fell asleep, lulled by the steady beating of Legolas' heart. And Legolas then fell asleep as well, knowing that an eternity was not enough time to spend with his love.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Wow, I feel unusually proud of that chapter. And I hope you guys like it, since I spent my ENTIRE WEEKEND writing it and trying to perfect it. It isn't perfect, but I think it's as close as I'll ever get. Sorry, no real smut it that one. Maybe later... ;)  
  
*Note: I apologize if I spelled "mallorn" incorrectly... I couldn't find my sister's LOTR books, so I was unable to look it up. Also, in chapters twenty-one and twenty-two, I made a boo-boo... The second "interrupter" was not Tarem, it was Telmon. Sorry about that.  
  
Have a nice day! And don't forget to review, because you all know how much I loooove those. Tata! 


	24. Arrival of the Messenger

A/N: I know, I know, this chapter is LONG overdue...sorry, school's been quite the bastard lately. Thanks again for all of the sweet reviews! Honestly, you guys motivate me to work faster than I would otherwise. Well, I'm sure you're all more anxious to read the chapter than my silly little announcements.  
  
Oh, and, forewarning, this chapter will probably seem a bit boring...and I don't think it's as well written as my last one. But oh well, I hope you enjoy it! Onward!  
  
  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four:  
  
Calathi stretched her arms above her head and smiled as pleasant memories of the previous night filled her mind. She turned to her side and saw that the Prince was no longer there. *Such an early riser,* she though. *What a shame...* The maiden quietly chuckled to herself, wondering how Legolas could have possibly let such a perfect opportunity slip by.  
  
She sat up, shivering slightly at the chilly breeze flitting throughout the chamber. Quickly she pulled on a robe, glancing down quickly at what she was wearing (or lack thereof) and laughing again. She walked lightly to the door she had noticed before and opened it, surprised to find that it led to still another room rather than the privy.  
  
This chamber was smaller than the main bedroom, though it was furnished just as well. A decorative couch was against one wall, and another table was located in the center. A woven rug was also placed underneath it, and more dark green drapes adorned the walls. Looking at the opposite wall, billowing curtains attracted her and she went to investigate what was behind them.  
  
A garden of dead trees greeted her on the small terrace, and she grimaced slightly at their sorrowful whispers as she found a carved wooden bench and sat. Gazing at the tidy mounds of dirt, most likely meant to hold flowers, she opened her soul to the forlorn vegetation and showed them images of the spring to come.  
  
Their mutters eased, and Calathi was able to relax and enjoy the beautiful frost that had descended overnight to lay itself upon everything. She grinned, thinking of how she would soon be married to the Prince, and then she'd officially be allowed to spend the night there.  
  
A sudden thought hit her. *How am I to return to my room unnoticed?* The only garments she had at her disposal were last night's gown and Legolas' robe. Surely she could not return to her own quarters wearing the same unmistakable attire that she had at the festival; it would arouse suspicion in anyone who saw her. Then again, would wearing her fiancé's own robe not cause even more provoked thoughts?  
  
Calathi sighed in frustration and marched back into the bedroom to grab her gown. After she found it, rumpled on the floor in an uncaring manner, she made her way back outside and slowly crept off the low balcony and around the walls of Legolas' chambers. Walking until she thought she had traveled as far as she usually did to reach her room from the Grand Hall, she found a tree with conveniently low branches.  
  
Calathi hesitated, then looked around quickly to see if anyone was nearby before taking off the bulky, restricting robe and wrapping her gown in it. Up she nimbly climbed, wearing her bodice alone, until she reached the overhang. Quickly she jumped out of the trees and pulled the curtains aside, relieved beyond belief that it was her room she had found, apparent because Methlai was resting upon a shelf on the wall. Though she found her luck of locating the correct room hard to believe, the maiden thought it best to put on some clothes before any unknowing visitors discovered her situation.  
  
Donning a simple gown of lavender, Calathi heard her door open and grumbled quietly, having just finished combing through her hair. She turned and found the Prince in front of her, wrapping her in his warm embrace and kissing her forehead lightly.  
  
"I had wondered where you had gone, melamin," he said to her.  
  
"I wondered the same, Legolas," she retorted, a bit on edge after risking exposure and climbing a tree to reach her quarters.  
  
"Actually, I did not think you would enjoy trekking through the halls in your, stunningly marvelous, might I add, gown from last night," he answered, grinning impishly. "So, I left you to sleep whilst I came to find more suitable garments for you." Calathi felt her face grow hot and glared at the prince, whose eyes slowly registered the origin of the maiden's burning gaze. "You cannot tell me..." he said, shaking his head and beginning to laugh, "you - you..." He trailed off and was unable to continue as fits of laughter consumed him.  
  
"I did," she growled, resentful of his behavior and seeming insensitivity. "I found my way around outside and climbed the tree by the window. I felt like an orc trying to sneak into Lothlorien!" Legolas only laughed harder, and Calathi gave him a look like daggers and briskly brushed past him.  
  
"Where - where are you going?" the Prince managed to ask as he gained control of himself.  
  
"Anywhere but here!" she snapped. Then she stomped toward the door as Legolas stood agape behind her. Quickly coming back to his senses, the elf ran after Calathi and wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her within the room.  
  
"Let me go," she ordered him, though inside she was longing for him to hold her, kiss her, show her his love...  
  
"I am sorry, amelamin," he whispered into her ear, his smooth, sweet voice making Calathi's senses reel. "I did not realize you were so distraught. Please, forgive me - do not leave." The maiden sighed, and Legolas accepted this as a yes.  
  
Without warning he scooped her off her feet and tossed her onto the bed. "Legolas!" she said in surprise as he jumped on the bed as well, grinning wolfishly.  
  
"Now that you are awake, I thought that we might accomplish what I have wanted to do all night..."  
  
She laughed, her stomach fluttering as the Prince's intoxicating scent reached her. "Did you not sleep?" He sat, running his hand along her side and sending shivers up the maiden's back.  
  
"Of course," he answered. "For about a minute..." She giggled and, her willpower depleted, reached up to him, pulling him onto her as their lips met and she opened her mouth to meet him. He complied, kissing her slowly at first, then teasingly.  
  
She moaned as his mouth left hers and instead caressed her neck. "You know," she whispered as Legolas traced her delicate ear with his soft lips and she barely bit back a squeal of delight, "I should not forgive you so easily. Perhaps I should keep you waiting until the wedding." The Prince abruptly halted his activity and leaned back to stare at her, a look of disbelief and worry creeping into his face.  
  
"You would not." She grinned teasingly and took the opportunity to roll away, dodging his outstretched arm and jumping off the bed as he chased after her. She whirled around and laughed giddily at the Prince, on whom a smirk was growing.  
  
"You cannot escape me," he said, climbing off the bed as Calathi backed toward the door, shaking uncontrollably with more suppressed laugher.  
  
"Oh, I think I can." Legolas lunged for her, and she jumped back and ran out into the hall.  
  
Down the corridor she raced, looking back to see if the Prince pursued. He did, though she had a head start and he didn't appear to be gaining the distance between them very quickly. She reached the dining hall and turned, breathlessly cutting across the empty room toward the kitchen.  
  
As soon as she had passed through the door she stopped, smoothing her hair as bewildered servants shot her confused glances. She smiled charmingly at them before turning around, and just at that moment Legolas sprinted in at a speed that would not allow even his elven reflexes to prevent a collision.  
  
Calathi smiled as Legolas picked himself off her and pulled her up beside him. "In a hurry today, are we not, Your Highness?" she asked innocently, straightening her gown.  
  
He grinned back. "I was indeed, My Lady. But perhaps, as I happened to meet you here, you would do me the honor of joining me for a late breakfast?"  
  
"I would love to." Immediately a servant strode over to them, bowing.  
  
"If Your Highnesses would be seated in the Banquet Hall, your meal shall be served shortly." Legolas nodded, but Calathi shook her head, glancing at her love.  
  
"Actually," she said thoughtfully, "it is rather lovely outside. I think this is a perfect day for a picnic, wouldn't you agree, My Lord?" She smiled mischievously at the Prince. His lips twitched with hidden mirth, and he agreed. The servant, looking slightly hesitant, curtly bowed before preparing a cold meal for the two elves.  
  
Legolas accepted the basket of food shortly afterward and offered his arm to Calathi, which she daintily accepted. With one arm on the Prince, she curtsied to the servant. "Thank you, sir."  
  
He nodded in return. "Anything for such a beautiful Princess," he returned, smiling at the maiden's blush. Legolas inclined his head slightly and then the two went off in the direction of the garden.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Legolas draped his leg over Calathi's slender form and held her tighter as he felt her shudder in her sleep beside him. The breeze was picking up, and the weather was quickly growing cold. The Prince took his eyes off his love to look at the darkening sky; ominous clouds were forming almost directly over the two elves.  
  
"Melamin," he whispered, gazing back at the maiden. He tucked a stray piece of her long hair behind her ear. "Melamin, wake up."  
  
Calathi stirred, bringing her eyes to focus on the handsome elf beside her. She smiled, wondering for the thousandth time how she had been so fortunate as to be blessed with the love of such a strong, compassionate, perfect creature. Then his lips claimed hers in a tender kiss, and all coherent thought flew out the window.  
  
Reluctantly he broke it, giving the sky a deadly glare as though he could will the threatening weather away. "I believe it will snow soon, Love," he commented. "We should return to the palace."  
  
Calathi sighed, unhappy about leaving her comfortable spot on the dying grass, where she had been napping since their picnic was finished. Legolas stood, and when Calathi took too long in getting up, he scooped her off the ground and spun in a circle, waking her up completely.  
  
"All right!" she laughed, struggling to escape the Prince's dizzying grip. "Put me down. I can walk myself." Legolas grinned and set her on her feet, giving her a quick peck on her lips before taking her hand and leading her from the small meadow toward the palace.  
  
Calathi stopped when she felt something moist hit her nose. All around her, snow fell in fine, sparkling white flakes. The beauty of it all made the maiden almost want to cry; her life was finally coming together, and she lived in a world so vast and wonderful that it awed her. Then, the temperature suddenly dropped, and she felt herself clinging to Legolas for warmth. The snow was already beginning to fall in thick sheets when the Prince pulled her forward once again.  
  
The chill in the air made Calathi's senses acute; she felt each and every flake that hit her skin. Giggling, she skipped forward as Legolas urged her faster, trotting in hopes of reaching their home sooner.  
  
The palace gates came into view, and the two elves increased their speed to a sprint, racing each other. Calathi dove for the gate and turned to her love. "I win," she panted, smiling breathlessly.  
  
"No," he argued," I win." The maiden shook her head.  
  
"A tie then," she giggled. The Prince drew her into a hug and put his arm around her to shield her from the stabbing wind.  
  
"We better get inside," he said, walking beside her. "It looks like a blizzard is approaching."  
  
Just as they reached the door, shivering, they heard noise behind them and turned to find a scouting elf atop a prancing brown mare. Calathi's heart leapt. *He must be the one sent to Ilinar,* she thought.  
  
The messenger dismounted, and with one look at the Prince, the maiden felt her stomach sink. He looked so... forlorn, and... was that fear in his eyes?  
  
"I must - I must speak - with the King," he stuttered, and it was then that she noticed how exhausted he appeared to be. Quickly she took his arm and helped him into the palace with Legolas, away from the storm.  
  
They found Thranduil in his study after asking a nearby guard where he could be found. Upon entering, he saw the state of the scout and ordered him to sit, calling for a servant to bring them some wine.  
  
"My Lord," the elf began, shooting a glance at the future Princess, "I have some urgent news... from Ilinar." Now the King too looked at Calathi. The messenger appeared hesitant. "I - I believe it may be wise to discuss this without the lady present."  
  
Thranduil's eyes widened, and the maiden's anxiousness grew. Before the King replied she stepped forward. "What news, My Lord?" she asked, a warning gleam in her eyes.  
  
"Please, call me Matirine," he offered, attempting to distract her. He looked to Thranduil for support, then to Legolas. "Your Highnesses, I - I do not recommend that the Lady hear this... news... on such a night," he cautioned.  
  
"If it is about the realm of my family I have a right to know what is going on!" she shouted. Legolas put a hand on her shoulder as Matirine grimaced.  
  
"Perhaps it is best, melamin. We do not know the state of the matter as of yet," the Prince said soothingly.  
  
"It is NOT best!" the maiden screamed defiantly. "Tell me now or so help me I will leave and discover the truth myself!" Legolas was taken aback by her antics. Nevertheless, though he knew she had more patience than many of her kind, he realized that this matter struck her heart. She may very well go so far as to carry out her threat if nothing was revealed to her.  
  
Sighing, he motioned for Matirine to continue. Reluctantly the messenger looked at the King, who also nodded. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He shut it again, closing his eyes for a moment as though to gather his courage before opening his mouth to try again, succeeding this time. What the elves heard made them wish he hadn't. "Your Highness, Ilinar has been destroyed."  
  
****Ohhhh... what now? Guess you'll all have to wait and see! ;) I'll *try* to get this next one posted sooner though, I promise. Have a nice day! 


	25. Through the Storm

Chapter Twenty-Five:  
  
Instinctively Legolas wrapped his arm around Calathi's waist to support her. But Calathi felt numb; she couldn't sense the Prince beside her, could barely hear the conversation that continued around her pale form. *Destroyed,* was all that ran through her mind. *Ilinar was destroyed.*  
  
"What do you mean, Matirine?" Thranduil asked grimly.  
  
"Sir, I believe... well, I believe that goblins may have attacked the town," he said, looking down.  
  
"What makes you think that?" The King questioned, surprisingly calm.  
  
The messenger bit his lip, looking again at the Princess-to-be. "There were... bodies, My Lord. Bodies of elves, all over the ground... most were pierced with arrows, or otherwise violently slaughtered." His words were tight, forced, as though his throat was constricted in the grief caused by seeing the horrendous sight he was describing.  
  
"Thank you for returning so quickly Matirine," Thranduil told the scout. He sat thoughtfully for a moment, reflecting on the situation. "There is very little to be done in this storm," he concluded. "With luck it will end by tomorrow. Please inform our soldiers that we shall depart for Ilinar when the snow stops falling. Also, find the Captain of the Guard and send him to me." Matirine nodded and quietly left the room.  
  
The King and Legolas looked at Calathi; she appeared unstable, trembling lightly, though her eyes were burning with fierce emotion. "Melamin?" Legolas asked carefully. "Are you all right?"  
  
The maiden struggled to come to her senses; she had barely acknowledged the fact that her fiancé was addressing her. She turned her head slowly and locked eyes with him. The pain reflected in his sapphire orbs dissipated some of the numbness surrounding her, though she tried to hold on to it. The anguish with which it was replaced was almost too much to bear.  
  
She unhooked the Prince's arm from her hip and stepped away, walking to the door and into the hall with complete, cool composure. Thranduil and his son exchanged glances before Legolas followed.  
  
He caught up quickly and wrapped her in his embrace, seeking to offer what comfort he could. "Legolas, please," she pleaded, endeavoring to remain as remote as she could for the time being. "Please, I... I just want to be alone."  
  
"Calathi, I understand that you're hurt, maybe even afraid... but I think it would be best if you had company to help you through this," he advised gently, kissing the top of her head. Then he leaned down and kissed the tip of her ear softly. "It is all right to cry, Love," he whispered.  
  
She shook her head. "I cannot right now," she answered stiffly. "I need time to think."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
She faced him and nodded. "Yes." Legolas sighed and released her from his hold. He knew that it would probably be better for her if he were there to soothe her and draw her attention from her grief, but he respected her need for privacy. Reluctantly, he watched her go.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Calathi strapped Methlai to her belt and shoved her knives hastily into her boots and the wrist guards on her arm. It was madness, she knew. But there was no way she could let go of what had happened like that.  
  
What if there were survivors? Matirine couldn't possibly have checked everywhere, and if any of her people were hurt, in pain, hidden somewhere...well, she had to find them, and quickly. Besides, there was one spot in particular that she needed to investigate for herself... and at least one person - or body, she added with revulsion - that she needed to find.  
  
Her mind was made up: storm or no, she had to discover the true fate of her parents and friends. The thought of everyone she had known being dead plagued her mind, and she shoved the torturing thoughts out of her head.  
  
Quietly she pulled on a thick, gray cloak she had brought from home and lifted the hood, tying it firmly to counter the gusting wind. The thick blanket from her bed she rolled tightly and shoved into her pack. *Are the servants still in the kitchens so late?* she wondered. Whether the were or not, she had to try her luck - she was sure that she could get by without food for the journey; it was for what may await her there that she needed it.  
  
Slowly opening her door and peering out, Calathi saw that the hall was devoid of other elves. She raced noiselessly through the corridor and cautiously entered the kitchens,, scrounging through various jars and cabinets for supplies.  
  
Suddenly she heard approaching voices from the dining hall, only a little way from the door. She gave up her search, opening the previously secured shutters, but she was thrown back. Their wooden frames slammed into the wall with a loud crash, and she had to jump up quickly to stop their rattling before the entire palace was aware of the raucous.  
  
She threw herself outside amidst the angrily swirling snow and howling wind. Roughly striving against the storm, she lowered herself from the sill and crept toward the stables, her feet barely making an impression in the accumulating drifts as she proceeded with the little she had managed to accumulate.  
  
The guards that had rushed into the kitchens moments after the commotion pushed the mysteriously flapping shutters closed and eyed the open cabinets suspiciously.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Soon enough Calathi was galloping through the woods, a white mare beneath her. Flakes of ice stung her face as she sped onward, whipping by the violently swaying trees. "Noro lim, noro lim, Larape!" she urged her steed. The sweeping countryside kept her emotions at bay.  
  
She allowed herself to float, suspended, separated from the world - almost the way she had when she went into shock what felt like so long a time ago. Only this time, the Prince, her love, was not there to save her from the swirling blackness with a sweet kiss.  
  
Why hadn't she told him that she was leaving? He might have made the journey more tolerable with his mere presence. *He would not have let me come,* she told herself to keep the guilt from rising within her.  
  
She continued on throughout the night, the cold spreading throughout her limbs. As dawn broke, her horse slowed her pace; saliva foamed at her mouth, and her sides were lathered with sweat. Though Calathi's only wishes were to reach Ilinar as quickly as possible, she understood that the creature carrying her needed a rest.  
  
Pulling her blanket from the pack she had flung to the ground, she used its edges to rub the horse down and then draped it over her body to keep her warm. "Diola lle thank you," she whispered, patting the mare on her muzzle.  
  
Larape neighed weakly, nuzzling her hand. She retrieved an apple from her sack and fed it to the horse, giving her another friendly pat before taking shelter beside a tall fir tree. As she pulled her cloak more tightly around her, Calathi felt the cold creeping further within her stiff body. At this point, however, she just didn't care. Her eyes fogged, and then her mind wandered onto the path of dreams.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Legolas awoke with a start. The wind still whistled beyond his closed windows, though his senses told him morning had arrived. He leapt out of bed and roughly pulled on a tunic. Striding quickly out of his bedroom and down the corridor, he stood outside his fiance's quarters and knocked gently.  
  
"Calathi?" he called, knocking more loudly. Still, no answer rang from within, and the Prince quickly grew apprehensive. "Melamin, open the door." He stopped pounding and listened, only to be answered with silence.  
  
Legolas pushed it open and stepped into the room, searching for the future Princess. The bed was empty, the coverlet gone. The Prince looked around briefly before his gaze settled on the wall - at the very spot where Methlai had been hanging since the battle with the goblins.  
  
It was gone.  
  
His heart skipped a beat. "Oh no." Then he dashed off toward his father's chamber.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A wet nose pushed its way into Calathi's dream. She came back to consciousness and focused her eyes, finding Larape in front of her. Smiling weakly, she stood, her strained muscles burning as she brushed the deep snow away from her. She pulled the damp yet warm blanket from her horse and stowed it in her sack before climbing onto her and resuming her journey.  
  
Clouds of snow still fell thickly around her, though the wind had slowed. Her elven intuition kept her on the correct path through the silent forest as she grew nigh to Ilinar. Her horse plodded through the drifts at a steady pace, ever onward.  
  
She traveled the rest of the day in the same fashion, pausing only to offer nourishment to Larape. By midday the snow had become even deeper, so much so that the horse could hardly pull its entrenched hooves from the drifts.  
  
Calathi gave up the struggle in frustration as she drew on the elven magic within her and passed it to Larape. As the mare strained for another step it found that it was able to walk upon the snow as its mistress did.  
  
The speed of their travel increased once more, and the maiden found her strength being quickly depleted. Her energy was being drained away to sustain the enchantment upon the steed. Had she released the connection, horse and rider would have immediately plunged through the crust and they would be halted yet again. So, though exhaustion was overcoming the elven warrior, she willed herself to continue until the last of her strength had been spent.  
  
Afternoon descended upon the forest, casting long, eerie shadows over the glistening snow. Calathi had been in a stupor for several hours, her mind unaccustomed to being incapable of traveling the dream paths when need called for it. Her spell, however, required her to remain conscious throughout its casting.  
  
Without realizing it, Calathi fell into the thigh-deep snow and her horse sank to its forelegs. Neighing loudly, it caught her attention and she groggily stood, bringing the blanket from her pack and rubbing the horse down as before. Quickly she scooped away the snow around Larape so that it wouldn't be frozen in place by nightfall. She dug a small hollow beside it for herself as well before curling into a tight ball and falling fast asleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
To the extreme gratuity of the still-tired Calathi, she awoke to clear night skies and little wind. Larape stood patiently as she bundled the coverlet and stashed it, then mounted her and granted her magic once more. It was the maiden's hope that they reach Ilinar by daybreak, so long as the calm weather remained.  
  
The snow now was a bit higher than her waist, and the trunks of the bare trees were hidden from view. The usual woodland animals were nowhere to be seen.  
  
Still, the realization of the news Matirine had borne to the palace had yet to reach her, and as the sky cleared and the sun rose and her destination become visible, she was not prepared for what she found.  
  
  
  
***Hehehehe... I wonder what will happen? ; ) Well, anyway, I was kind of making it up when Calathi lent her power to Larape so that her horse could walk on snow as well... I have no idea if that's even possible, or if elven horses can walk on the snow for themselves, but whatever. Sorry to any of those LOTR know-it-alls that throw hissy-fits if anything is out of wack... and I know that this is an LOTR story (well, sort of), but I'M the one writing it, and I'm doing what I want to do with it. And yes, I know, elves don't cry... but I find it easier to write when I can show emotions that way... Haha, sorry, I really do appreciate all of my reviewers. Keep them coming guys!! 


	26. Desolation

**A/N: I'll keep this short because I'm sure everyone is anxious to actually read the chapter... or not, but I'm so so sorry for taking so long to update! I hope you'll all forgive me... *Raises shield to block flying rotten vegetables*  
  
**Also, I have a mailing list for those who wish to be notified when I make an update to this story. If you haven't received an e-mail from me and want to be notified of changes in "Calathi" (or have been e-mailed and don't want to be) please send me an e-mail and I'll be happy to change the list! Thanks again everyone!  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Twenty-Six: Desolation  
  
Legolas shoved the doors to his father's office open violently. "She's gone, Father! She's GONE!" Thranduil looked up from his seemingly never- ending stack of maps and scrolls and looked confusedly at his son. The younger elf's disheveled and alarmed appearance did not go unnoticed.  
  
"What is it, Legolas?" he asked in concern.  
  
"Calathi, Father... she's not in her rooms!" The elven prince stalked anxiously back and forth, running a trembling hand through his long hair and successfully pulling his neat braids apart.  
  
"How can she not be? Did you not take her there last night?" The king stood and walked to his son, laying a hand on his shoulder to stop his pacing.  
  
"I did, but..." his voice trailed off, and he took a deep, shaky breath before steadying himself. "Both her sword and her blanket are missing," he continued, more collected, as he stared into Thranduil's increasingly aware eyes. "I believe she left for Ilinar, Father."  
  
Legolas wanted to kick himself as he stood in trepidation for the life of his bride-to-be. How could he have been so ignorant? It was blatantly obvious, to everyone but him it seemed, that Calathi was never one for taking situations lying-down, and yet he had still left her alone to do whatever she saw as necessary.  
  
"I should have stayed by her side... she said that she did not need me, but I should have seen it in her eyes; it was there, I just did not look hard enough... why did I ignore it?!" His emotions bubbled over, raging beyond containment, and the Prince slammed his fist into a wall before Thranduil caught him and held him still.  
  
"That is enough, son! What has occurred cannot be undone; we can only do what we believe is best to repair the situation." He released Legolas, who was still breathing heavily as he got his anger and frustration under control. The younger elf massaged his abused hand and looked grumpily at the floor, steeling his heart against the crushing realization that things may not end up as happily as he had planned.  
  
"You may ride at midday," the King instructed, and Legolas' eyes lit up as he began to grasp what his father was saying. "Gather whatever warriors you see fit to accompany you, and the Captain and the rest of Mirkwood's soldiers will follow when the storm slows." Legolas nodded, slightly less anxious that he now had orders to follow and with which he could occupy his time.  
  
"I shall remain at the palace as you check that region thoroughly for survivors and any indication of what exactly took place." He looked sternly at his son. "Do not take any offensive measures against the culprits, Legolas. Come straight back to the palace once you have found everything you need to know - and the future princess, of course - and then we shall decide upon further action. Is that clear?"  
  
The Prince nodded urgently. "Of course, Father. I will return as soon as possible."  
  
"Very well," Thranduil affirmed. "Notify me when you are prepared to depart. You are dismissed." He turned abruptly and exited the room to begin his task.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Legolas rubbed his face with his hands in frustration, waiting for his father to finish speaking with another elf of the party. He despaired more with each flake that fell from the sky - each was just another part of the world that was trying to come between him and the love of his life. "Why did she ever leave me?" he mumbled quietly, jumping as an encouraging hand touched his shoulder.  
  
"You can answer that when we find her." The Prince turned and saw Telmon beside him, covered in snow, much in the same way that he himself was. Calathi's appointed mount had been discovered missing during the morning's preparations, and now he could only hope that she was at Ilinar and that they would reach her in time to save her. *Save her from what?* the Prince wondered. *Herself, perhaps, her impulsiveness, her grief...* he answered himself. *But there could be worse danger...*  
  
He shivered - not from the cold, which bothered him little. The need to find his future wife fueled his efforts, more so even than the distant town's destruction. He hadn't known the elves there, and though he grieved after the loss of his kin and the friends and relatives of Calathi, his love still took priority over everything else.  
  
Legolas didn't care how selfish it was; his feelings for her eclipsed all others, and only one mission pervaded his consciousness - the mission to find her, protect her, and love her until the end of time... his wife, soul- mate, and the mother of his future children. He had to smile at this thought, reminiscing on all of the failed attempts to consummate their love. The intense desire to finally accomplish that was still buried within his heart, and their impending marriage, along with the opportunity to officially make her his princess, were the only things he looked forward to more.  
  
Telmon cleared his throat, startling the Prince from his trance. After realizing that he had completely forgotten about his subordinate, Legolas sighed, his consistently proud shoulders now drooping slightly. "I am sorry, Telmon," he apologized, shaking his head. "It's just... I do not understand why she went alone." The addressed elf raised his eyebrows at his leader's antics. "She knows that I would have gone with her, if she had only spoken with me."  
  
"Would you have, My Lord?" Telmon inquired. "Or would you have kept the Lady here in order to protect her?" Legolas bit his lip, contemplating Telmon's statement. It was true enough - who wouldn't want to keep the person most precious to them out of harm's way?  
  
The Elven warrior knew he had reached his companion, who was now pacing slightly, and he felt sympathy for his situation. "Do not fear, your Highness." Legolas stopped moving and looked at him, blue eyes desolate. "The Lady can take care of herself."  
  
"I pray it is so," the Prince answered. He glanced up as Thranduil made his way over.  
  
"Is everything in place?" the King asked his son as he surveyed the company. Legolas nodded, eager to begin travel.  
  
"Very well. You may be on your way," he consented, nodding. The Prince let out a breath and turned, but Thranduil quickly grabbed his elbow and stopped him.  
  
"Be careful son," he advised. "Stay alert."  
  
"I will," Legolas promised, smiling at his father. The two quickly embraced in farewell. Then he gestured forward with his hand and the entourage of warriors proceeded out of Mirkwood Palace's gate, heading toward their destination of Ilinar with the Prince leading the way.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The elf fell onto the snow, staring in horror at the smoke rising into the air. The homes of her people were smoldering still, the stench of death filling her nostrils and fogging her mind. How could this be all that was left? It was only ruins, ruins and ash covered by dirtied ice.  
  
Calathi pushed herself onto one knee and slowly straightened it, standing to face the tragic site before her. But where were the townspeople? There were no bodies to be found, only the smoking remains of what had been her home.  
  
Her stomach clenched as a thought violently erupted in her mind. Of course, it was obvious - sickeningly so. The snow on the ground was deep... deep enough to cover the corpses. Either that, or the goblins had taken their leftovers for their own sadistic pleasure and foul purposes.  
  
*It can't be true...* Calathi hadn't wanted to believe the messenger... what was his name? She couldn't even remember correctly... but now, the evidence was at last before her, and it could no longer be denied. Her town had indeed been destroyed, along with any hope of seeing her family and friends again.  
  
In utter anguish, she sank to the ground once more, curling up tightly and moaning, unaware of Larape's frantic whinnying. Her mother, her father... Meron... all dead. Sobs tore at the elf's lithe form as she thought of her friend. It made her all the more guilty, realizing that she was mourning his death more than the deaths of her own parents.  
  
But it was beyond that; Calathi now knew that she had loved - still loved - Meron, even if only as a friend or brother. In her times of torment, he had been there. In her times of rare happiness, he had been there. And now, he was gone... gone with everyone she had known before life at the palace had even begun.  
  
Her thoughts wandered as she stood, dazed and weak, and eventually turned toward Legolas... it was amazing how that one name brought a ray of light through the black fog surrounding Calathi. She needed him, needed him so badly right now; if he were there, he'd put his arms around her, cradling her against his strong form; he'd give her comfort and warmth, strength to go on.  
  
She loved him, with all of her soul. If anything, she was obligated to survive for him. He had to have realized by then that she wasn't at the palace, and would have guessed her incentive for leaving. In all probability he was on his way to Ilinar at that very moment... it was all she could hope for, and Calathi clung to that hope with her entire being.  
  
Wiping the freezing tears from her cheeks, she forced herself to sit up. Larape nudged her gently, as if she were encouraging her. "Valar, give me strength," she whispered before rising once more. She had to escape the nauseating scene before her, and, sadly shaking her head, she grabbed the mare's reins and helped pull her atop the snow from where she had sunken into it.  
  
Calathi held back more tears as she made her way to the one locale that had brought her solace during her childhood years. It was her hideaway, her own secret place where she could relax and let the hours pass. Perhaps she could find enough peace to sleep, burrowed beneath one of the great oak trees that surrounded the tiny grove. But first, she needed to say her farewells to the spirits of her loved ones - and where she was going was the only place to do it.  
  
She stepped through a patch of dense undergrowth and sighed. There it was - her little creek, frozen solid now; the forked tree, dubbed the Sitting Tree, with its branches placed perfectly to lounge on and to swing from; the young oak that had been her first hit target, then but a sapling, after Meron had been teaching her how to use a bow... and now there would be no more fond memories created in this place, because Meron had left for the halls of Mandos without her.  
  
She looked down at her hands, clenched into fists. *The only cause of my pain is the cruelty of the goblins,* she thought bitterly. *They murder our people and destroy our homes, looting towns, burning whatever is left... It has to end.* Confusion settled in her mind. Had Mirkwood's forces not destroyed the great goblin fleet? How, with only small factions left of their army, could the goblins overcome the town's defense? *What does it matter now?* she wondered, face bleak. Her gaze drifted up again to a rock where she'd sat so often in the sun, conversing and laughing with her companion.  
  
"Meron," she whispered, swallowing her tears, "I'm sorry I left you. You were my best friend, the only person besides my parents that cared about me." Her voice was cracking, and pleading filled her eyes as she blinked rapidly to hold in moisture. "I'm so sorry, Meron... perhaps if I had stayed, I could have helped you and everyone else... If I had only argued with my father a little more to make my point, this might not have happened."  
  
The wind picked up a bit, flitting through the forest to greet her, and it seemed almost as if she could feel her friend's soul leaving the mortal world. His voice floated with the breeze, calling her to him. The trees themselves began to murmur to her, vaguely at first but getting clearer by the second, saying "Go, go to him... he awaits your return."  
  
"I wish I could," Calathi replied earnestly, looking to the sky as sobs began to tear at her throat. "But I cannot; I am bound to this world through the one I love."  
  
So many forest voices joined in the whispers that she could hardly make out what they were telling her. But understand she did - "As is he..."  
  
Her senses were suddenly acute, and time appeared to slow. A scent in the air reached her, and she jumped forward to find its source. Beneath the Sitting Tree, the elf gently brushed the foliage aside.  
  
"Calathi," said a weak voice. Meron, lying on his back on the snow, opened his eyes.  
  
She took in the sight of him, surveying his appearance. A bloody strip of gray tunic had been tied loosely around his shoulder; there were red stains on his torso - one on his stomach, the other near his collar bone. A nasty, scabbing gash was stretched across his cheek, and various scratches covered his bare arms.  
  
"Limraer, please... don't cry." Feebly, he reached his better arm up to brush her cold cheek. He smiled faintly. "I did not think I would ever see you again."  
  
"Nor I you," she whispered, fighting to calm her frenzied heart. Reaching to her neck, she unclasped her cloak and pulled it off, brushing the snow from his body and then wrapping it tightly about him. Steeling herself, she told him, "I'm going to get my pack. I have some food for you, if you think you can keep it down, and another blanket. Then I'll get a fire started and we'll see if we can warm you up a bit." She was about to stand when he grabbed her hand.  
  
"Don't leave... I do not wish to be alone when I pass." He smiled again. "Now that I've seen you once more, I'm ready to go." Calathi shook her head vehemently.  
  
"No! You're going to be all right, Meron." *You have to be!*  
  
He shook his head and a pained expression appeared on his face, as though the slight movement had aggravated his wounds. "I've only survived this long because I intuited that you would come for me."  
  
"Do not speak of such things!" Calathi ordered sternly. His unfaltering sense of death scared the wits out of her, and she really needed them to get through this. Yanking her hand away, she jumped up and rushed to the center of the grove where Larape still stood, waiting patiently. She grabbed her pack and then sprinted back to her fallen friend, yanking out her blanket. Meron watched with pitying eyes as she laid the blanket over her cloak.  
  
"It is too late, lovely one," he told her again, sighing. "Do not fear for me... we shall meet again."  
  
"NO!" she shouted, refusing to give up. Tears streamed from her blurring eyes as she struggled to clear a place for the fire. She pulled brittle branches down from the tree above them, silently apologizing to the ancient body.  
  
A small fire was crackling shortly after, and then she turned her attention back to her friend. His eyes were drooping, and she knew that time was no longer on her side. "Please, mellonamin, I need you to survive this. Do it for me..."  
  
With a flourish Calathi grabbed her cloak from underneath the blanket and began tearing it into strips with the help of her dagger. "I'll never forgive myself if you die because I forgot bandages," she muttered to herself, pouring the energy from her anger and frustration into the task.  
  
A pile of cloth strips on the snow beside her, Calathi reached toward her friend and carefully cut the blood-stained fabric around his shoulder, peeling it back slowly. She grimaced when she saw that a deep gash ran along his collar bone and partway down his arm. It was bleeding freely again, and she hurriedly wrapped it tightly to lessen the flow of the sickening red liquid.  
  
Lifting his tunic up to his shoulders, she examined the injuries on his chest. Calathi gasped when she saw that the flesh around the incisions was torn, a telltale sign that an arrow had been crudely pulled from his body. Pushing away an overwhelming sense of vertigo, she dug into the snow on both sides of Meron's body and found solid evidence to prove her suspicions true.  
  
In her hand, as she lifted it from the snow, were two coarse arrows, bloody a quarter of the way up their long shafts from the tips. "You pulled them out yourself, didn't you, Meron?" she whispered, pained at the thought of her friend braving such torment. Shaking her head, she threw the arrows away from her and pulled her blanket over the unconscious elf.  
  
Not much was left for the maiden to do, as the wounds on Meron's collar and stomach had ceased bleeding already, though she wrapped more of her cloth strips around his torso to prevent them from reopening. Her knowledge of healing verses was limited and would serve as little use to the injured elf. Still, when she checked his breathing and found it scarcely perceptible, she knew that every effort made a difference.  
  
With one last prayer to Estë, spouse of Irmo and healer of hurts and weariness, she knelt before her dying companion and opened her mind to his pain, accepting it as her own. "Hold on, mellonamin..." she murmured before crumpling over him, trembling as she muttered the short healing chants that she could remember. *Hold on...* 


	27. Survival

Dumm dum dum dummmmm! I have returned!!!!  
  
Well, I could apologize profusely for my laziness in typing up this next chapter for Calathi (which has been written for a while now), but I know that anyone still interested in the culmination of my story probably won't even read this announcement and will jump straight to the actual chapter. So, without further ado, here it is:  
  
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Survival  
  
Bright sunlight shone into Calathi's eyes as she awoke, and she moaned at the ache in her stiff body. Cold and tired, with hunger gnawing at her stomach, she sat up and saw the dying embers of her fire before her. Instantly she remembered the events of earlier and she turned quickly to see that her friend was staring at her with a slight smile playing over his lips. Calathi gasped, putting her hands over her face in a mix of disbelief and joy.  
  
"Meron!!" she shouted, lunging to hug him.  
  
"I'm not healed yet, you know... that hurts," Meron replied, grimacing slightly. Calathi sat up again, looking guilty.  
  
"Oh dear, I'm sorry Meron.. You just do not know how happy I am to see you a –" she faltered here, thinking that saying 'alive' would not be best in this situation. "Awake," she finished.  
  
"So, mighty healer... you believe I will make it then?"  
  
"Of course!" she shouted, springing up and nearly tripping over her leaden feet as she ran toward her mare. "I'll get you something to eat," she said over her shoulder. Larape nudged her in greeting as she fumbled through her sack, a frown forming over her face and creasing her brow. The only sustenance she found was a few crusts of bread and another couple of apples. *Oh, for the love of –*  
  
She tramped back to Meron, whose eyes were now closed again. "Meron?" she asked, becoming worried.  
  
"Yes?" he answered, reopening his eyes, now dancing with laughter at Calathi's concern.  
  
"Just... stay with me, all right?" She bent over him and lifted his tunic to check the wounds on his chest. A small amount of blood had soaked through the bandages, but they would have to do for now as she had no other cloth to spare. She held out an apple. "Think you could get this down? I can make a stew out of it if it's too potent for your stomach."  
  
"I think I can manage," he replied, grinning. This was more like the Meron she knew, which was good news, considering the state of things. Allowing her hopes of a full recovery to rise, she grinned back and touched his cheek, grimy from the mingling sweat and blood as well as dirt from the previous battle. Calathi herself ate nothing, reserving all she could for the person that would truly need it.  
  
"I've missed you, limraer," Meron whispered. Calathi focused her attention on him again. "You have no idea how dull it was here without you."  
  
Smiling faintly, she took his hand in her own. "I've missed you also," she answered. "So much has happened since I left... I don't even know where to begin describing it all."  
  
"Start at the beginning," he suggested. "I heard that you had quite the adventure on the journey to the palace."  
  
She frowned. "You cannot be serious," Calathi replied dubiously. "I will not sit here and babble on about my escapades with you in this state of health."  
  
"Why not? An entourage is on its way to Ilinar, is it not?"  
  
"Well, yes, but –"  
  
Meron cut her off with a nod. "Excellent. The only thing to do now is wait, so why not entertain me with a few of your stories?" He smiled at the exasperation on his friend's face.  
  
"All right," she sighed. "Everything began with a little trouble from some goblins..."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
That night...  
  
"Get some sleep," Calathi said gently after her friend had finished eating a meal of bread and an apple. Meron watched her suspiciously. Interpreting his look correctly, she grinned. "Don't worry about me. I had plenty to eat on my journey here, and I'm not the one that has wounds to heal."  
  
He shook his head. "What about your own sleep? You need your rest if you're to take care of me," he replied, smiling.  
  
"Someone has to keep watch. Seeing as how I'm the only one who can sit upright, I'll be the one to guard camp." Meron's eyes lit at the challenge, but Calathi stopped him before he could do something self- damaging. "Don't even think about it. If you try to get up I will sick my horse on you." He glanced at Larape, who snorted and shook her mane.  
  
"I better not then."  
  
"No," Calathi ordered. "You better not. Now try and sleep. I will wake you if I notice anything peculiar." Finally yielding, Meron laid back and stared up at the sky. Calathi pulled the blanket around his neck and kissed his cheek before going to the fire to kindle it.  
  
With the flames crackling brightly, she sat back and stared at the sky herself. The storm clouds had dissolved by then, and the stars were shining as brilliantly as ever. Meron watched her, smiling at the relief and happiness in her face, before allowing his mind to wander in dreams.  
  
*Thank the Valar he is safe,* Calathi thought. Hunger was beginning to gnaw at her stomach, but with only a tiny bit of bread left, she had to save it for her companion. She could almost sense Legolas' nearness, and hoped that he'd arrive quickly. Feeling slightly apprehensive, she retrieved her sword from Larape's pack. With its comforting weight in her lap, she sat back against a tree trunk to await the coming dawn.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Legolas looked at the scenery around him in shock. The other elves in his escort had also stopped and appeared to have feelings akin to his own. Two days and nights had passed since their departure from the palace, and when the weary group had finally neared Ilinar the following morning, dread hung in the air. The foreboding feelings were explained by the rubble and ruin around them now, the remains of an entire village laid waste.  
  
Telmon was the first to react. "I cannot believe this..." he muttered. "We slaughtered the main part of the goblin forces, did we not? How could the lingering rabble create such destruction?"  
  
"'Twas no rabble of goblins that did this," Legolas growled. "The people here were trained in defense, I know for sure. Many of Mirkwood's soldiers come from this area of the forest."  
  
"But, that would mean..."  
  
"Yes, Telmon, I believe it means just what you and everyone here are probably thinking," he stated, glancing around at the cheerless faces of his comrades. "I believe we have greatly underestimated the size of the goblin army." Legolas looked at the desolation grimly. "This is the price for such a mistake."  
  
"Pardon my boldness, sir," another elf inquired hesitantly, "but perhaps, with such vital news for the kingdom, we should retrieve the Lady Calathi and summarily complete our mission here?"  
  
"I wholeheartedly agree," Legolas answered. "Search the debris for any possible survivors," he ordered, his princely command coming forth. "Call me immediately if my fiance is found. Telmon, choose three elves to search with you and I in the surrounding woods." The elves nodded, going about their appointed tasks with haste.  
  
A few moments later, one elf cried out. "Oi! My Lord! Come quickly!" Legolas ran to where the excited soldier was standing. "Sir, look at these prints. They are very peculiar indeed."  
  
"So they are," he agreed. Four rather deep impressions were in the snow, along with several unrecognizable markings. It was then that he noticed a very light, almost imperceptible trail leading from the impressions. Following them a short distance, with the intrigued elf tagging along behind him, Legolas saw that the trail led them into the trees.  
  
"Telmon!" he called, motioning for his comrade to accompany him. Telmon raced to his captain's side, awareness lighting in his eyes, and the two of them trotted deeper into the woods, hunting along the unknown trail for the Princess-to-be.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Calathi pinched herself for the umpteenth time to keep from giving in to the exhaustion she felt. Meron still slept soundly beside her, his breathing even. She watched the rhythmic movement of his chest, needing that reassurance that he would live to see another battle and many more injuries. As long as help arrived soon, she believed, her friend would be all right.  
  
Herself, however, Calathi wasn't so sure about. She had not eaten since her last night at the palace, and there was no food with which to ease the pain in her stomach. Hunger, however, is only temporary – there would be many mental wounds to deal with once this ordeal was over. She hadn't yet come to terms with the death of her parents and lifelong neighbors, and her wedding ceremony was less than a fortnight away. How in the world would she deal with everything that was happening?  
  
Abruptly, she rose. Her sharp hearing alerted her to the crunch of snow a short distance away, beyond the dense foliage surrounding the clearing. *Goblins?* she wondered. Perhaps not – she would have smelt them before hearing them, and goblins usually did not travel as quietly as whatever was approaching. Besides, Larape continued to nibble on fallen twigs, and she did not appear fidgety or uneasy in the least. Could it be...?  
  
Legolas pushed through the bush and stopped. Calathi, pale and trembling with alarm, stood not ten paces from him, grasping the hilt of Methlai in her hand. She dropped it at the sight of him, running forward to wrap him in her embrace. "Oh, limraer, I'm so glad you're all right," he whispered, holding her tightly to him.  
  
"I'm sorry, Legolas, I should not have acted so brashly. I will give you a proper hello when time allows it." She pulled away, the Prince frowning at her worn features as she immediately took his hand and led him to her conscious friend. Legolas was shocked to see the elf lying in the snow, battered and bruised but smiling knowingly at him all the same. "This is Meron, and he needs a healer's attention at once. I have been unable to properly tend his wounds with the supplies I had, but with the grace of Eru he is still alive."  
  
Calathi's fiance took a moment to grasp what she had just said as Telmon stepped beside the couple. "Good day, my Lady," he said quickly, bowing to the future princess. "If it suits you, I shall remain here with Meron and allow the Prince to escort you to the site of our camp. Legolas, send a few soldiers back here to assist me in carrying the wounded elf."  
  
The lady nodded weakly, fatigue creeping through her body. "Meron?" she asked as she was led away by the Prince.  
  
"I'll be fine, Calathi," he answered reassuringly. Satisfied, she trudged beside Legolas as they left the sight of Telmon and her friend.  
  
"Limraer," Legolas inquired, watching his fiance's unfocused eyes stare straight ahead, "are you feeling well?"  
  
"Hm?" she mumbled, turning her head to look at him. She stumbled then, Legolas catching her as she struggled to stand upright. Her knees were weak, and the Prince scooped her into his arms as his worry multiplied. "I apologize, melamin... I don't wish for you to think that I am weak..."  
  
"Never, my Princess... you are the strongest elf I know." She smiled faintly even as she drifted to sleep. "You are safe now..." he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Amin mela lle..."  
  
"Love you," she mumbled. Legolas chuckled, hurrying to reach the camp site.  
  
***** Okay everyone – the next chapter is almost complete (and very long), so I shall finish and post it the next chance I get. I intend to finish this story, if it's the last thing I do. ^_^ So thank you to anyone who is still reading this and has faith in me. I appreciate everything. 


	28. And the Tides Shall Turn

***This is, obviously, the next installment of "Calathi" (which should be underlined, but as I have no understanding of translating text to html format, I cannot show it on fanfiction.net...). That's enough chit-chat.  
  
Ohhhh, wait, no it's not! Whoop-whoop, I got 200 REVIEWS! Yippee! Thanks to everyone that got me there, and Will Turner's Little Stalker, who pushed me over the top (awesome name, by the way...^_^). Hopefully I won't take long after this to get the next chapter up. Oh well, here's Chapter 28! ****  
  
Chapter Twenty-eight:  
  
The instant Calathi awoke, she thought immediately of Meron. She threw off the blanket covering her and, finding a clean tunic and pair of britches beside her and thinking it better to be clean than pretty at the moment, changed clothes. Then she pushed open the flap of the tent she was within and stepped into the dusky atmosphere.  
  
A shout rang out upon her emergence. An elf ran to her, stopping beside her and smiling politely. "My lady," he greeted, bowing as he expertly disregarded her state of dress, "I was told to escort you to the chamber of your charge, who goes by the name of Meron."  
  
"Meron... is he well?" she asked, glancing at the soldier hopefully.  
  
"Aye," he replied, "he is very well. His wounds have been redressed and he was given the best food we have available."  
  
*Hmm...food...* Calathi thought, blushing as her stomach answered with a rumble. She gave an apologetic look to the elf before her, who nodded and took her arm. "Your friend is in no immediate danger. Perhaps we should proceed to the supply tent to obtain some type of nourishment?"  
  
"I am very grateful, my Lord." They walked together to a nearby storeroom where the few provisions brought with the group had been piled.  
  
After gorging herself as politely as possible on dried fruit, bread, and a bit of cold, salted and smoked meat, Calathi and Derathon (as she learned her escort was named) made their way across the snowy landscape to where Meron had been placed and treated. The elven camp had been established in close proximity with Ilinar, though what was left of the village was out of sight. A cluster of tents were set up in the sparsely shaded area, and only a few other elves could be seen going about their tasks. Whatever other elves that had come with the group, Calathi knew, were either scouting the destroyed village or guarding the camp.  
  
Derathon opened a tent's entrance and gestured for Calathi to enter, closing it behind her once she had vanished within. Meron was sleeping soundly, his eyes blankly staring at the ceiling. She went to his side, pulling the blanket that was over him back to inspect the new bandages covering his various injuries.  
  
"One of you is blessed," a voice behind her said, making her jump. She whirled around, surprised to see another elf with her inside. "I am Pelathor, a soldier, and a healer when I must be." Calathi rose, and he took her hand to kiss it gently. "And you, my Lady, are the Lord Legolas' bride-to-be."  
  
"That I am," she answered, blushing slightly at his touch. "But I am called only Calathi by most." Glancing back at Meron, she asked, "What did you mean, 'one of us is blessed?'"  
  
He sighed, going to scrutinize the dressings of the sleeping elf himself. As he did so, he commented, "I have seen wounds such as these before, Lady Calathi, though I am not the royal guard's chief healer. It is a miracle that he survived as long as he did on his own, and even more of one that you were able to treat him with the meager materials at your disposal."  
  
Calathi paled at Pelathor's intimations. "Is he going to..."  
  
"He shall live, my fair Lady, and with very little assistance from me." He smiled at her before exiting the tent, leaving her alone with the unwell elf.  
  
"Oh, Meron," she whispered, sinking to the floor and kissing his cheek lightly, "thank the Valar you're here..." Tears threatened as she thought of her lost loved ones, though she was grateful that she had her best friend, at least, to cling to in such a time.  
  
"I thank you also, not only the Valar, that I am here," Meron whispered, and Calathi noticed for the first time that he was awake. "Thoughts of your face kept me alive those many days." She smiled at him, leaning over to hug him tightly. "I met Legolas earlier," he said, grinning as she pulled away.  
  
"And...?" she inquired.  
  
"He seemed a bit...uncomfortable... almost as if he was jealous of me." Calathi chuckled at the notion.  
  
"What did you two speak of while he was here?"  
  
"Well," he responded, looking thoughtfully at her, "first, he commended me on my bravery." Here he paused, his eyes dancing in merriment. "He then asked me how well we are acquainted."  
  
"How did you respond?" Calathi asked, growing suspicious.  
  
"I told him that we knew each other well enough..." Meron laughed as she hit him lightly on the arm.  
  
"You silly elf," she facetiously reprimanded, "that, I am sure, did not ease his jealousy."  
  
"No... but it was quite amusing to see him squirm." She hit him again, laughing, and then the tent opened and the object of their merriment entered. "Your highness," Meron addressed him, nodding his head as he was unable to rise and bow properly. Legolas returned the nod.  
  
"How do you fare this evening?" he queried, giving Calathi an unreadable look.  
  
"I am well, my Lord," he answered, watching as Calathi averted her eyes from the Prince's intense stare. She brought her hand to her mouth in an attempt to cover her smile. Legolas returned his gaze to Meron.  
  
"That is good news." Pause. "If you like, I shall have a meal sent to you shortly."  
  
"Your hospitality is most appreciated," he thanked. Their cool conversation amused Calathi, and she couldn't repress a small giggle at the comicality. She knew that once they knew each other better, they would get along wonderfully, but at the moment, the tension in the air was almost tangible. Deciding to ease the situation as best she could, she broke the silence.  
  
"I believe I shall retire now," she stated. Both males looked at her. "I still feel a tad fatigued. I will see you again tomorrow, Meron." He nodded. "Get some sleep so you can regain your strength." She gave a pointed look at Legolas, who bowed and bid farewell to Meron. Taking her arm, he led her out of the tent.  
  
In the shadows of the evening, the Prince embraced Calathi, entwining his fingers in her dirty, unmanaged hair and clutching her to him with his other arm. "Oh, my love," he whispered, kissing her cheeks and forehead, "you undo me..."  
  
She chuckled, recovering from her initial surprise and hugging him back. "I am truly sorry, my Prince... but I had to see this place for myself." As she took his face in her hands and looked into his sapphire eyes, she whispered, "I did not do it to hurt you."  
  
He looked down. "I know, Calathi, though I wish you would trust me."  
  
Searching his face, memorizing the shape of his alluring mouth, the sharp lines of his strong jawbones, the proud, straight nose, his perfectly arched eyebrows, the sight of his pain made her breath catch in her throat. "I do trust you..." she murmured, sighing. Legolas glanced up at her, his face inscrutable. The intensity of his glare took her aback, and she began to stammer. "Legolas, I... I –"  
  
"Shhh..." he silenced her, placing a finger over her lips. He followed his fingers with his mouth, his harsh desire evident in the brutal assault of her senses. He softened the kiss a moment later, guiding his lips gently over hers in a physical manifestation of his feelings. Calathi pulled away a moment later, her heart racing and her breath quick.  
  
"Not here, my Prince," she whispered, scanning the area for the curious eyes of another elf. Legolas nodded.  
  
"Come then," he answered, taking her hand and leading her to his tent, the same tent she had woken in. Once inside, Legolas scooped her up and placed her tenderly on a bed of pillows. Several candles had already been lit, as it was now dark outside, and the small flames threw soft shadows upon the faces of the smitten couple.  
  
Legolas kissed Calathi once more, lovingly, before sighing and laying his head on her stomach, his nimble fingers playing over the smooth skin of her arm. "I'm so glad that you are safe, limraer. When I realized that you had left the palace, my heart seemed to drop to my feet." He kissed her fingers softly. "I did not know what I could do."  
  
Tears filled Calathi's eyes, a bitter taste filling her mouth. *The goblins will receive their dues soon enough,* she thought angrily. "I cannot say how sorry I truly am, my love," she responded, holding back a sob, "but you cannot honestly say that you would have allowed me this journey if you were told of it." She watched as Legolas slowly nodded, admitting to both of them the truth of her statement.  
  
He rolled over so he could see that Calathi had a hand over her eyes. Climbing next to her, the Prince wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her. "Are you all right?"  
  
Calathi nodded, still not looking at him. "I am only sad," she murmured. Legolas remained beside her silently, having nothing to say. There was nothing he could do to ease her grief; only time would heal her wounds. Laying in the quiet of night, both elves soon fell asleep, their fingers laced together in solace.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Legolas was gone when Calathi awoke, as was becoming increasingly more common. Stretching, she rose from her pallet and straightened her attire as best she could. She glanced around the tent and smiled when she saw another clean pair of britches and a fresh tunic, grateful for her rescuers' preparation.  
  
Not a moment after Calathi had pulled on the tunic did the tent flap open, emitting a flustered-looking Prince. "What is it, love?" she asked as she buckled the last strap on her clothing.  
  
"It is nothing," he said offhandedly, though it was obvious that his statement was not the basest truth. "Limraer, I believe that you should return to the palace so you may receive the rest you need. Only..."  
  
"I am fine, Legolas," she interrupted him. "Truly, my strength has already returned."  
  
He shook his head gently. "Even if that is true," he answered, eyeing her, "it is not safe here. It would comfort me to know you were secure inside my father's home."  
  
"If I were to return now, I would have to walk the entire way because of the deep snow. Surely, that could not be very restful for me." She grinned.  
  
"All right," Legolas conceded. "However, in a few days, after the supply convoy has arrived and you are perfectly healthy, I would like you to travel back to the palace with an escort. If for nothing else, one of us should be making preparations for our wedding."  
  
Calathi nodded, smiling at her future husband, her first true smile of happiness since the dreadful news of her native town's destruction.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
It was four mornings hence when the Prince found Calathi packing food for her journey to the palace. Carefully stowing each item securely in a large sack, she was counting out enough for herself and the four soldiers accompanying her to last about a week, though she was sure it wouldn't take so long to reach their destination.  
  
A new group of elves had arrived several days before, each carrying packs laden with food and various necessities and led by the captain of the Royal Guard. Telmon had greeted them and had shown them where the supplies were to be stored. It was from these reserves that she retrieved what she required for the trip. Her faithful mare, Larape, was to remain in a rough shelter at the center of camp until enough snow had melted for her to return to her home at the palace stables.  
  
"Melamin," Legolas greeted her softly. Placing one last object into her sack, Calathi tied it tightly shut before rising to face him.  
  
"Hello, Love," she said before following the greeting with a momentary kiss.  
  
"I am afraid," he continued after their lips had parted, "I will be unable to see you off this morning." He frowned slightly. "One of the scouts seems to have found peculiar tracks some distance from camp, and I must go to investigate them. They may be consequential to our resolution of the matter on hand." She nodded understandingly. "You will be all right by yourself?"  
  
"Of course," she answered, fighting an inexplicable feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach. "You must do what you need to. Just be sure to watch over Meron while I'm away."  
  
"I will. Do not let your guard down for even one moment, for I could not bear to lose you again." Legolas moved forward a bit and kissed her tenderly, running a hand through her hair and holding her tightly. Calathi felt almost weak within the circle of his arms, and she reached around his neck to pull him closer, marveling at the immense love she felt.  
  
Soon afterward, both elves parted, Legolas heading into the surrounding forest at a brisk trot while his fiancé remained and bid farewell to Meron. Once that teary-eyed goodbye was over, she joined the elves that were to be her escorts. To her great surprise and dismay, Harem waited with them. He bowed low in greeting when she stood before the group.  
  
"My lady," he said solemnly, straightening and looking at her. His gaze made her skin crawl with apprehension.  
  
"What are you doing here, Harem?" she asked, disregarding the formal curtsy that propriety demanded. The other elves standing behind him seemed perplexed by the clear disdain in her voice. "Do you not have duties elsewhere that demand your attention?"  
  
"None more so than this," he answered her. Calathi paled and her eyes widened. "I am aware of the danger presented by your journey, for we do not know yet the whereabouts of the goblins." With ever word she became more alarmed by what Harem was proposing. "I have come to offer my services as a guard in your company.  
  
"No," she answered flatly. "The other fine soldiers here will provide more than adequate protection."  
  
Harem grinned wickedly. "Oh, but I insist. And, as Captain, I have the authority to do so."  
  
"Whose authority?" Calathi inquired scathingly. Lowering her voice and stepping closer, she continued. "I could have you exiled or worse for what you did to me. Do NOT underestimate my power in this situation, Harem. You are not coming with me."  
  
"Allow me the pleasure, good lady," he responded, his expression innocent. "I truly wish to protect you. I am not the same elf I once was."  
  
Calathi frowned. "I could simply refuse to leave." Harem shook his head.  
  
Do not be so silly, lady. I mean you no harm, which you will realize upon our safe arrival at the palace."  
  
She sighed. What to do... she could not live in fear her entire life, she concluded, and she did know how to protect herself, after all. She marched past Harem and addressed the other elves, and soon they were off with Calathi's sword, Methlai, loosened from its scabbard and hanging on her belt.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Several hours later, Legolas returned, frustrated and anxious because the odd tracks had been blown over with snow before he'd arrived to examine them. The scout who had led him there was young and fairly inexperienced in determining what creatures produce which markings. Now he was brooding for having abandoned Calathi as he did, and he was wishing that he could have remained for her send-off. He beckoned to Derathon as he took a swig of wine from a flask.  
  
The elf stood before him and bowed. "My Lord?"  
  
"Please fetch the Captain, for I have a matter to bring to his attention," he ordered.  
  
"Sir, Captain Harem departed with the future Princess for the palace." Legolas' train of thought abruptly ended.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Quite sure, my Lord," the Prince shook his head angrily. "He has responsibilities here to deal with! Did you tell him this before he left?"  
  
"Telmon did, sir, but the Captain insisted." Legolas sighed.  
  
"Very well. Inform Telmon that I wish to follow Calathi's escorts. I will require several strong warriors, and I leave him in charge of camp." Derathon nodded and departed rapidly.  
  
*How could she go with that scoundrel?* Legolas wondered angrily. *How could she be so stupid? If she gets herself killed, I will never forgive her...* As soon as Telmon returned and had been given instructions, the Prince was off, moving quickly with his squadron to lessen the distance between he and his love, the second such excursion in less than a fortnight. *At this rate,* Legolas thought sardonically, *I shall be chasing Calathi my entire life.* Dejectedly, a shadow of woe creeping over his features, he admitted to himself, *She is worth every bit of it, too...*  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
****There we go. Lovely, wasn't it? J/k... Hasta luego, mis amigos! **** 


	29. A Nightmare Manifested

Here it is – FINALLY. I apologize once more for the absurdly long wait, and ask forgiveness of my readers. My excuse is that my computer crashed and I haven't had Internet access for nearly a month, but I know that no one will buy that so I'll just let you get to the story. Who reads these comments anyway?  
  
Chapter Twenty-Nine:  
  
Calathi's nerves were on edge, her senses humming with awareness. Since her exodus of the camp with Harem, her insides had been a bit queasy, the way they usually were before a battle or competition. Harem had been keeping his distance, leading the group in solemn seriousness.  
  
As the day passed uneventfully, Calathi felt her anxious feelings melting away. Fatigue was partly to blame, since they had been traveling quickly throughout the day with few stops, but it was also her enemy's calm direction. He acted every bit the Captain, and the soldiers in the troupe followed him steadfastly, their devotion evident.  
  
Soon enough the sun was setting and Harem had stopped. "We'll rest here for the night," he ordered. Calathi shrugged and agreed nonchalantly, too exhausted to argue in spite of herself. The Captain moved the group off the worn trail some distance, stopping at a point where the trees an brush appeared less dense. Calathi felt slightly uneasy so far from the known path, however, and she approached Harem with her misgivings.  
  
"Bands of goblins have been known to watch that trail at night, catching lone creatures by surprise," he responded. "I do not wish to be ambushed in the darkness with so few warriors to defend you, my lady."  
  
Calathi started to protest but then stopped, knowing that an argument would be futile and going instead to retrieve the bedroll from her pack. After inquiring to the guard shifts, she finally lay down and fell into a deep, troubled sleep.  
  
Legolas chased her through a dark forest, shouting for her to stop running. She raced on, laughing gleefully as she led her love on into the darkening woods. "Come and find me!" she called, and screamed in mirth.  
  
"Melamin, NO!" the Prince shouted, voice anxious. She stopped finally and allowed Legolas to catch her, eagerly anticipating doing what they had so long desired. He surprised her by tackling her, pinning her to the ground, his features angry and tense. "How could you do that to me?" he cried, sobbing. "How could you leave me again?" She was scared now. Why was he so upset?  
  
"Legolas, it's all right. We're together now."  
  
"No!" he shouted. "Don't you see, my love? We cannot be together if you're dead!"  
  
She shoved him off of her. "Stop it, Legolas, you're frightening me."  
  
"It is too late! It's too late..." he cried, head in his hands as he shook uncontrollably.  
  
Calathi screamed as pain erupted in her stomach. She looked down and screamed again when she saw a knife buried in her flesh, held by ghostly white hands.  
  
Agony seized her as the blade was yanked out, and she looked up to see Harem grinning maliciously. He bowed, never taking his eyes from her trembling form, and advanced on her. Calathi yelped and stumbled back, whimpering as her stomach continued to ooze blood onto her tunic.  
  
"Legolas," she tried to call, but no sound emerged from her tight throat. "Help me!" she whispered, and it seemed as though she moved through a pool of mud. Her limbs reacted slowly, too slowly, and Harem raised his arm once more. He laughed manically and she let out a silent scream.  
  
Calathi bolted upright, scrambling out of her bedroll and glancing around frantically. A cold sweat made her shirt stick to her uncomfortably, and she grimaced at her own folly. "The guards keep me safe," she muttered to herself. "No need to worry." Still, the feeling of unease remained and she decided to check the status of the guard on duty.  
  
Climbing back into bed many minutes later after receiving confused looks from the warrior keeping watch, Calathi tried to sleep. But sleep wouldn't come, and she found herself thinking of her beloved prince. Would he be angry when he discovered that Harem was with her? She doubted it, for Legolas had enough to worry about back at the former location of Ilinar.  
  
She worried for him, though. Even if he wasn't upset about her traveling companion, he was in constant danger. The number of elves protecting his camp was pitifully low, and should the goblins who'd destroyed her home village decide to return, they would have a tough job of repelling the enemy without tremendous casualties.  
  
The next moment, Calathi felt herself being shaken awake. "My lady," a soldier murmured, "Captain Harem wishes to depart shortly. There is a small meal waiting for you when you have prepared." She nodded and changed clothes quickly when the elf had departed.  
  
She didn't hear Harem approach because of the clean shirt being pulled over her head. She did, however, sense his presence in the way her skin prickled and coolness washed over her.  
  
She whirled around, shirt untucked and eyes wild, a cornered beast. "My dear lady," he greeted politely, "I've come to collect you."  
  
"I have already been summoned, my lord," she spat back. "If you don't mind, I'd like to finish dressing."  
  
"By all means, continue," he answered, "but I cannot depart, for I fear you will be unable to find your way."  
  
"I am perfectly able. It is only over there that I must walk to." She pointed and gasped suddenly, for a great commotion had arisen just out of sight. She reached for her sword but her hand was stopped by Harem.  
  
"No, no, my lady," he said, wrestling the weapon from Calathi's belt. "You must come with me now. The time has past for gallantry."  
  
She gaped open-mouthed at him. How had she not seen his plotting? A burning raged filled her and she lifted her hand to strike him. Harem grabbed her arms before she could do so and held them above her head, pushing her roughly against a tree.  
  
"Ah," he murmured into her ear, grinding his hard body against her. "We're back where we started, aren't we?" He maneuvered her tiny wrists into one of his large hands. "You, weaponless and powerless–" He used his free hand to rip open her shirt, the only attire she had put on besides her undergarments. "–and I, ready to take my pleasure..." She struggled against his hold, but he would not underestimate her this time. Harem's strength greatly outmatched her own, and without her sword or another advantageous weapon, she was indeed defenseless.  
  
Abruptly he ended his torturous actions, forcibly turning her around. While Calathi feared the worst, he only began to tie her arms behind her with a rope he must have stored in his tunic. Taking a breath, she realized that the sound of fighting had ended and a disconcerting sort of wheezing filled the air.  
  
Goblin laughter.  
  
Their guttural language made Calathi cower. What was she to do? Harem had finished binding her and was now pulling her toward the noise of those foul creatures. "You are in league with the goblins?" she questioned her captor, appalled. How could anyone make an alliance with such vile beings?  
  
"They have their uses," he answered, grinning. The scene they entered made Calathi nauseous. Though several goblins lay dead, most with visible knife wounds but some with arrows protruding from their bodies, two elves also lay on the ground, mangled. The other two elves from her company were fighting against the hold of several goblins, gashes covering their faces and bodies.  
  
The creatures must have tired of the labor, for one landed a blow on the head of the soldier Elduarin and knocked him unconscious. The other, Hilane, protested violently, freeing an arm and hitting his captor on the nose. He ducked nimbly out of the retaliating attack and kicked the goblin again. The elf managed to beat the creature insensible with another solid strike and then turned to flee. A goblin shot him with a crude arrow and he fell, dead.  
  
"NO!" Calathi screamed, leaping at the goblin in a blind rage. Harem grabbed the back of her shirt, ripping it further and leaving her panting and indecently exposed. The goblins leered, throwing insults at her and making provocative gestures. She stood up and glared through tears at the evil beasts.  
  
"I see you have met Ulked," Harem stated. He indicated the goblin holding the bow. "He leads this lovely army." Ulked smiled, revealing rotted teeth, and Calathi spit at him.  
  
Harem knocked her to the ground, clucking his tongue. "That was not very polite, Calathi." She climbed to her knees, head pounding and skull smarting where he had struck her. He lifted her bodily and set her on her feet. Pointing at a particularly ugly goblin, he instructed it to carry the unconscious elven warrior. Calathi he pushed forward, and she was immediately surrounded by the horde of goblins.  
  
Inwardly cringing but putting on a brave face, attempting to conceal her fear and anger, she stumbled onward in front of her long-time foe, moving deeper into the dark forest. Though she could never be afraid of the darkness with these ancient trees around her, she was terrified of what the end of their journey would bring.  
  
Calathi was at the point of collapse by the time the company finally stopped. The temperature had begun to drop, and she found herself cold and painfully hungry. They had reached the entrance to a forbidding cave, and Calathi was horrified to see that still more goblins guarded this base.  
  
The reprieve lasted only a few moments as Harem consulted with Ulked and gave directions to a few creatures. Then he shoved Calathi inside the cavern, the goblin carrying the still comatose Elduarin preceding her. Down several dreary tunnels they marched until Harem stopped them beside a thick wooden door.  
  
"You will leave this elf here. Bring water and bread and leave it in the chamber, then return to your usual post," he commanded, and the goblin nodded, going to work. Harem took Calathi by the elbow and continued down the corridor.  
  
She protested in earnest, her first words since Elduarin's companion was killed. "Harem, that elf needs help. He is losing too much blood." When Harem did not answers she continued quickly, "I could tend to him. I will not need many supplies to do so, only bandages–"  
  
"No." Harem smirked at her. "Is dying really so bad? Think of what life will bring him in this place." He gestured around the dank dwelling, and Calathi had to swallow a mouthful of bile. Indeed, what would be the point in saving Elduarin if he was going to be tortured and killed anyway? Life in darkness is almost a death sentence for an elf of the light.  
  
They continued walking deeper into the cave, and though the air was becoming slightly warmer, the sinister atmosphere made her shiver. Harem threw her into another dungeon further down the hall. Well, at least she thought it would be a dungeon. What she least expected was what she got – a suite, brightly lit with clean lamps and decorated with rich furniture and tapestries, many of which she guessed had come from Ilinar. The thought made her sick.  
  
There was also a grand bed in the center of the room, and she recoiled in trepidation. Harem, however, did not follow her inside, for which Calathi was greatly relieved. "I will return when the matters at hand have been dealt with," he explained, eyes dark. "Then I will return and we shall finish what we started." He let out a bark of laughter and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Her heart sank when she heard a key turn within the lock, and she sat down on a chair far from the disquieting bed.  
  
Using a pitcher and a dish on the table, Calathi washed the dust from her hands and face. She examined herself in a mirror situated on the near wall and sighed. Her shirt was completely torn down the middle, the buttons gone. Her only covering – if it could be called that – was the silken slip she had been wearing underneath her clothing.  
  
A blue gown was draped over another chair, almost begging her to put it on, proof that Harem had planned Calathi's capture from the beginning. She scowled. A dress would make her feel inferior to Harem – not to mention the overabundance of fabric would hinder her defensive strategies. She would simply have to make due with her own inadequate clothing.  
  
Despite attempts to convince herself that she would survive this ordeal, Calathi was nearly quaking when ten minutes had elapsed. Each second felt like an eternity, yet each was not long enough, for every moment that passed brought Harem's return closer. She had to do something, had to try to escape. Sitting had become a chore and so she began pacing the room, searching fruitlessly for anything that would aid her in overcoming her lifelong nemesis.  
  
Soon, the trapped elf was sitting once more, head in hands, though she leapt up at the sound of the door rattling. Oh, Valar save me, he's back! she thought, terrified. She backed into a corner fervently when the door swung open and Harem entered. He relocked the door behind him and turned to face his prisoner, who was clutching her torn shirt across her chest. "My lady." He bowed mockingly. She inched closer to the stone wall, trying to sink into its depths. "If you comply to my wishes," he murmured, moving closer to her as her heart raced, "this may prove to be relatively painless."  
  
She was positively shaking now. This was the culmination of all of her fears. This was why she had trained to defend herself. But all of it was for naught, for she had never learned hand-to-hand combat – while that may not have helped her against such an unequal opponent as Harem, it would have given her at least some means of postponing the imminent event.  
  
"Come and sit, Calathi," Harem invited, beckoning to her and patting the bed beside him.  
  
"Never," she replied, disgusted to think that Harem could believe she'd willingly do as he asked.  
  
"All right." He sighed dramatically and began to walk toward her again.  
  
"No, no!" she screamed, and ducked when he grasped at her with is repulsive fingers. She shot past him, running to the other side of the room.  
  
"You are only delaying the inevitable," he declared, advancing on her once more. Calathi glanced around frantically, but again could not see a way to escape. She noticed, however, that the door's key was hanging on Harem's belt, glinting invitingly in the lamplight.  
  
Though it seemed futile, Calathi was so desperate that she was willing to try anything. This can't get any worse... She halted in her retreat. "Harem..." she whispered, the picture of feminine submissiveness.  
  
He also stopped, grinning. "Yes, my dear?" he asked. "Have you come to your senses?"  
  
"I – I suppose..." She gulped, trying to hide her fear. "If I – perform willingly what you ask of me... would you release me once you are through?"  
  
"Of course not," he responded maliciously. "I intend to keep you as my pet."  
  
Calathi hid her grimace. "Could you, perhaps–" She stepped toward him, repressing her quivering nerves. "–be gentle?" The image of a dangling key flashed within her mind as she went against her instincts and approached Harem.  
  
"I may, if you play your part acceptably." When she stood before him a moment later and had placed her hands on his chest, he growled lustfully and pulled her against him, letting her feel his hard body. She gasped when he captured her lips with his, then stood rigidly and allowed him the pleasure.  
  
Her unresponsiveness did not seem to deter Harem and he began instead kissing her neck, bending down as he continued tasting her flesh. Calathi, not knowing how much longer she could abide this torture, reached to Harem's belt and fumbled with the buckle.  
  
"Getting anxious, are we?" he murmured against her. "I can quicken things, if you'd like..."  
  
"No," she muttered, concentrating on the belt. A few seconds more... Harem began pulling her torn shirt apart and lifting her slip to continue his onslaught. "Yes!" she cried, the key's loop sliding off the strap and into her hand as she nearly screamed at her own folly. Expecting a clout from Harem, the other elf merely chuckled with satisfaction, chauvinistically believing her exclamation to be a result of his own ministrations. With a burst of speed she wrapped her leg behind Harem's knee and yanked. He went down with a yell, hitting the floor hard. Dodging his outstretched hands, she dashed to the door.  
  
She was shaking so badly that she could hardly fit the key into the lock. Harem was scrambling to his feet now, face flushed in aggravation. Abruptly it slipped into the door's mechanism and she turned it, wrenching open the heavy door and taking the key with her when she jumped into the hall. She heard Harem's shout from the far side of the room as she shut the door behind her and quickly locked it again.  
  
Oh, what relief she felt! Standing in the empty stone passageway, she tried to recall from which course they had entered. There was no time to think, however, for Harem was yelling loudly. His calls resounded throughout the hall and so she turned in one direction and raced down the hall.  
  
To Egged: Thank you for changing your pen name. Huzzah, my uniqueness has been restored! And Calathi never got sick – she was poisoned by a shard from an evil blade of Mordor. Nothing from this story has even a smidgeon to do with Tamora Pierce's series.   
  
Blessings to everyone else who has been reading my story and reviewing. I am forever grateful! The next chapter is already half-finished and so hopefully (without further technical disasters) I will post again soon. Only a few chapters left until this epic story is complete! I say epic because it's been two years since "Calathi" was begun. Amazing that you people still keep up with it...  
  
As an added note, for those of you who don't know, I have a list of e-mail addresses for anyone that wishes to receive notices of updates for 'Calathi.' So, if anyone would like to be added to that list, please let me know – it is easily accomplished! 


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